


Fighting Spirit

by SweetSorcery



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Alliances, Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon, Background Slash, Character Death Fix, Enemies, Episode Related, F/M, Falling In Love, Fever, First Kiss, First Time, Forgiveness, Guilt, Het, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Missing Scene, Undercover, Uneasy Allies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-28
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2017-11-15 04:49:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 23,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/523320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetSorcery/pseuds/SweetSorcery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is an AU version of the alliance between Kira, Damar and Garak in late season 7.</p><p>EDIT: I'm sorry it's taken me so horribly long to upload the remaining chapters!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Taking Sides

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All canon characters, settings, events and other details are property of Viacom/Paramount and possibly other copyright holders. Non-canon bits were created for non-profit, non-infringement fan entertainment.
> 
> Archiving: Nowhere except here, and not in translated form either.
> 
> Notes: Being AU, I've taken the liberty to remove Odo from the events. Not only do I think they do just fine without him, but I never did buy that Kira - given her personality and history - would fall for him.

The mission had been a success. After a bloody struggle, and aided by some loyal Cardassians who recognised Damar on their arrival, the Jem'Hadar ship - including its newly installed Breen weapon - were in the rebels' hands, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

Then came the moment of realisation for Damar. He'd just killed his friend Rusot. Looking down at the body, he pondered the irony of war - he had killed him to protect Kira.

At any other time in his life, this would have been painful for him. But the recent loss of his family still had a numbing effect on him. The loss of his son, more accurately, because his wife had stopped loving him years ago when he'd joined Dukat on what she'd referred to as 'that pirate ship'. She had thought him a traitor then. By the time Cardassia had signed an alliance with the Dominion, she had been willing to share his bed again, ironically considering him a hero at a time he himself knew to have been the worst in the history of Cardassia. By then, he'd begun to hate her. What would she make of him now? He'd never know. His son, Leemar, however... the boy had been all he'd cared about in his life aside from his occupied home-world.

Damar surveyed the bridge of their captured ship, knowing now was not the time to allow his grief to surface. Nothing they'd done today had truly sunk in yet. They'd accomplished what they'd set out to do, and he had saved a life in the process, but his heart hadn't been in any of it.

That was not strictly true, he thought, looking over at Kira who stood on the bridge of the appropriated Jem'Hadar ship as if she owned it. Despite himself, Damar couldn't help a brief smirk.

She looked as small and fragile as the Vorta lying dead at her feet. But behind that deceptively frail exterior was a woman who could hold her own against anyone and anything. She had proven that to him beyond a doubt when she'd beaten him to a bleeding heap back on Terok Nor. And Damar, being as painfully honest as it was his habit when lost in thought, knew she'd been within her rights to do so. He had been a different man then - one he wished he'd never known.

Despite their strained past, Damar had begun to realise over the past few days that he admired Kira Nerys. Not because of the things she stood for, or for her rebel fighting skills. Her expertise had gained them access to targets they never could have tackled without her, but that was not the reason for his admiration. He admired her for herself. He'd never known a woman as strong and determined as the Bajoran officer. And this was not even her cause. She would be a formidable ally if one was fighting on the same side with her. Truly on the same side.

"Damar, what's the matter?" Kira called out. She'd noticed him staring at her and was growing ever more uncomfortable. She was halfway expecting him to suddenly realise he'd saved her life at the price of his friend's - and a fellow Cardassian's no less. Perhaps he was right now planning when and where to kill her, to even the score?

"It's nothing, commander," he answered absently. Checking the console in front of him, he informed everyone on the bridge, "We'll be in Federation space within two hours."

Kira nodded. "Our nearest starbase is less than 3 hours away. Once we're out of Dominion space, we'll contact them immediately."

Garak chimed in. "Yes, we certainly wouldn't want them to shoot us down now."

Damar took another glance at the display, making sure no other ship was within range of them. "I'm going to get a raktajino."

Kira snickered. "You drink Klingon coffee?"

Before Damar had a chance to answer, Garak supplied, "Commander, if you were more familiar with Cardassian beverages, you would not be at all surprised by this."

Kira threw him an amused glance. "That bad?"

"You have no idea!"

"No, I don't," Kira admitted. "I've always avoided them."

"I always knew you were an intelligent woman, commander," Garak said with a wink.

Damar, meanwhile, was looking through the computer schematics to see if he could locate the storage facilities. "The first thing the Federation should install on this damn ship is a food replicator! How could we have ever trusted a people who don't eat?"

"Perhaps they just don't do it in public?" Kira suggested.

Damar shook his head. "I've never seen them eat. Although admittedly, I've spent most of my time with Weyoun, and he's odd even for a Vorta."

Garak grinned. "I must admit, I almost regret not having met more Vorta myself."

"Why?" Damar and Kira asked simultaneously, sounding equally horrified.

"They're quite... attractive, don't you think?" Garak mused.

Kira and Damar exchanged a look.

"If you like evil little gnomes." Kira shrugged.

"Gnomes?" Garak asked, confused.

"It's something they have on Earth," she explained. "Humans keep them in arboretums and gardens for decoration. They're little... figurines with long beards and silly hats."

Chuckling, Garak said, "Well, that doesn't sound much like the Vorta I've encountered so far. I do find them intriguing."

"You've been with the Obsidian Order for too long. You sense intrigue everywhere," Damar pointed out.

"Perhaps." Garak motioned in the general direction of the dead Vorta on the ground. "But you must admit, the females are so... delicate. And small."

"And no less treacherous than the males." Damar looked at the Vorta as well, but in his case, it was with disgust and intense dislike. He'd spent more time around the Vorta than he cared to remember. All the times he'd had to endure Weyoun's irritating posturing... and worse yet, his groveling in front of that disgusting shape-shifter.

He stood staring at the floor and finally instructed the other Cardassians on the bridge to remove the bodies of the Vorta and the Jem'Hadar. As well as that of Rusot. He was tired of looking at them.

Garak, meanwhile, was on a roll. "I do believe that with a few 'alterations', Commander Kira here would make a very pretty Vorta." When Kira glared at him, he raised his hands in a placating gesture. "I was complimenting you, commander. Truly, I was."

"Just make sure you never find yourself plotting over lunch with Julian to drug and 'alter' me," Kira warned.

"Hmm..." Garak murmured thoughtfully. The idea was worth considering. Or it would be, if it didn't mean his certain death at the hands of the Bajoran. One more of those fiery looks from her wiped the idea right from his mind.

Damar, smirking at the exchange, decided to leave the bridge and go in search of something to eat or drink. The gas-flooded levels of the ship had been cleared again, and he was able to move about freely, climbing over the bodies of countless Jem'Hadar. He covered several floors, but unfortunately, his search didn't turn up anything.

Frustrated, he returned to his cohorts shortly after. "Damn the Dominion!" he fumed on stepping onto the bridge.

"Well, we'll just have to hope that our Federation friends will provide us with dinner on our victorious arrival." Garak smirked, not in the least bit perturbed by their lack of supplies. He'd made sure to eat shortly before they had boarded the ship.

"Oh, they will. Don't worry about that," Kira stated, checking some of the consoles to make sure they weren't picking up anything of concern on subspace.

"Commander?" Garak asked in confusion.

"They'll give us a feast. Most likely, a welcome party. I've never been able to get used to the pomp the Federation are so fond of." The moment she'd said it, she bit her lip. There really was no need to put down the Federation in the company of two Cardassians.

"I agree. Comfort has far too much value for them," Damar grumbled.

Garak shrugged. "I don't mind a good meal myself, but I'm not fond of those group gatherings." He shuddered imperceptibly.

Kira sighed. It was high time she got back to Deep Space Nine when she found herself in agreement with Garak and Damar.


	2. Among Friends

 

On arriving at the nearest starbase, Kira, Damar and Garak were taken straight to the officer in command - Admiral Holiday. The tall, distinguished human shook hands with them. He praised Kira for her tactical skill and Garak for his ability to infiltrate virtually anything and anywhere. Then he welcomed Damar to the fight.

Kira noted with amusement that Damar barely managed to suppress a scowl. She understood why - he was a rebel. They all were. They were swimming against a stream much stronger than they were, and he didn't feel he had the time to relax and exchange pleasantries with people who had been his enemies only weeks earlier. There was much fighting to be done, and he was anxious to get back to it. As was she.

Garak, on the other hand, basked in the praise heaped upon them all for their courage and boldness in stealing not only the Breen weapon, but a Jem'Hadar ship with a working model of it installed as well. He really was much too fond of posturing.

"You must be tired. Let me show you to your quarters," the admiral finally offered amiably.

"Thank you, Admiral Holiday," Kira said politely and, with her companions, she followed him to the habitat level where three well-appointed guest rooms had been prepared for them.

Before Holiday left them to their own devices, Kira said, "I'd like to contact Captain Sisko as soon as possible."

Holiday nodded. "We let him know as soon as we heard from you, commander, but feel free to use the comm-unit in your quarters."

He turned to the Cardassians. "I hope you'll be comfortable here, gentlemen."

For the first time since their arrival, Damar spoke up. "We can't stay long enough to get comfortable, admiral. There are contacts in Cardassian space waiting for us."

The admiral nodded. "I understand, Legate Damar. And I assure you that we'll work as diligently as possible. But we must learn the installation and workings of the weapon on a ship before we can disassemble it and let you take the Jem'Hadar vessel away again."

Damar was about to protest, but Garak put a hand on his arm, silencing him with a smile. "Thank you, admiral. We understand perfectly. How long do you anticipate us having to stay here?"

"Only two or three days, I should think."

Kira exchanged a look with Damar and Garak. They'd have to make up lost time on their trip back to Cardassia Prime.

Admiral Holiday tugged at his uniform and cleared his throat. "Now, once you're settled in, I and my senior staff would be delighted if you'd join us for a celebratory dinner in the wardroom."

Kira managed to suppress a chuckle, noting that Garak and Damar also fought valiantly. "Thank you, sir," she said quickly. "We're looking forward to it."

* * *

Garak delighted in a hot bath before getting settled in with a cup of Tarkalean Tea before dinner. He replicated himself a fresh set of clothes and got dressed in the burgundy tunic and pants. He noticed that for the first time in years, he wasn't nearly as interested in the cut of the material as he was in just wearing something clean and comfortable.

Damar, next door, was pacing. He wanted to keep going. This delay was nagging at him, but he eventually conceded that there was nothing he could do. Putting his clothing through the recyc unit, he went and had a long, hot shower.

Kira did much the same in the next room, once she'd contacted Deep Space 9 and informed Sisko that the mission had been a success. She briefly wondered whether she should replicate some Bajoran clothes, but even if she wasn't in Cardassian space right now, she was still working with Damar and Garak. Not to mention attending a Federation dinner. So she decided to simply get her uniform cleaned while she freshened up.

* * *

After meeting in the corridor an hour later, the three of them made their way to the wardroom, where they were welcomed by Admiral Holiday and his senior officers: Commander Belok - a Vulcan, Lieutenants Dakara and Miller - both Human, and the senior medical officer Lieutenant Commander Noran - an Andorian. They were introduced to the officers, who congratulated them on their success and wished them luck with future missions, but soon, the low-key festivity was interrupted by the serving of a vast buffet.

"Finally," Damar muttered, brushing past Kira.

She smiled. "I'm inclined to agree."

Damar piled up an extraordinary amount of food on his plate, topping even the outrageous serving to which Garak helped himself.

During dinner, the usual pleasantries were exchanged between the Starfleet officers and the rebels. It seemed as if only one side was decidedly uneasy about the situation.

Damar had to admit to himself that if there was one thing to be said for Humans, it was that they forgave easily. When a Cardassian was betrayed, it took a long, long time before he could ever look at an enemy as an ally again. Yet despite the still raging war, and despite the fact that most of his people were right now fighting against the Federation, here he was, being welcomed almost like a friend.

He gazed at Kira, who stood by one of the view ports where Lieutenant Dakara was talking animatedly to her. Bajorans were a lot more similar to Cardassians than they themselves realised. Or would want to admit. They did not forgive. At least that particular Bajoran did not...

"What happened to your ravenous appetite, Damar?"

Damar turned to find Garak smirking at him. Only then did he notice that the plate he was holding was still full. He'd hardly touched anything. He took a quick bite of something he didn't recognise to cover his embarrassment. "Nothing," he said. "I was thinking."

Garak nodded. "Yes, I thought you might be."

"What do you mean?" Damar asked suspiciously.

"Oh, nothing. Nothing at all." Garak was amused by how carefully Damar avoided looking in Kira's direction. At least right now. "You merely looked deep in thought."

Damar nodded. "I wish we could leave sooner."

"I'm sure Starfleet will work on the ship as fast as they can. It's in their interest to let us get back to our work and to get knowledge of the weapon to the whole fleet." Garak set down his empty plate.

Damar, who had been spotted by Lt Miller from across the room, groaned.

"What's the matter?" Garak enquired curiously. When he realised who was heading their way, he smirked. "Ah, I see. Damar, I believe you've made quite an impression. The lieutenant asked me only a few minutes ago where my charming fellow Cardassian had disappeared to."

Damar looked at him in alarm.

Garak grinned. "Joking, Damar." Ignoring Damar's reproachful glare, he added more seriously, "But if you ask me, the lieutenant has more than simple conversation in mind with you."

Damar winced. "That's all he'll get."

"Not your type?" Garak asked nonchalantly, not wanting to appear too curious about the matter.

Damar glanced at Garak. "No, not really."

Garak smiled at him. "I can't help but wonder who is?" And with a meaningful look in Kira's direction, he turned and walked away, leaving Damar to deal with the advances of the golden-locked human officer heading his way.

* * *

Damar finally managed to extricate himself from Lt Miller nearly an hour later, after having rejected his offers of first a walk through the station's arboretum, then a drink in Miller's private quarters, and eventually, being accompanied back to his own. Feigning extreme tiredness, Damar excused himself politely but firmly, before saying goodnight to the admiral and the other senior officers still present.

Garak told him he intended to "linger" for a short while longer, and Damar left him to it, noting that Kira stood with a small group of officers she did not quite seem to fit in with. She appeared to be deep in thought.

As soon as Damar was outside the door of the wardroom, he took a deep breath. Thinking of Lt Miller, he wondered why no one had ever warned him about the sheer determination of humans?

"Damar."

He turned to find Kira also exiting the wardroom. "Commander," he greeted.

She nodded, falling naturally into step beside him as they made their way to their adjoining quarters.

They remained silent for most of the short trip, but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence.

Eventually, Kira said, "The admiral offered to have us present when the Breen weapon is tested tomorrow. I told him we would be."

"Good idea," Damar agreed. "It will be instructive. And there'll be nothing else for us to do here while we... wait." He said the last word with some displeasure.

"I agree." Then Kira stopped.

Damar turned back when he noticed she was no longer by his side. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Damar, I... Before we boarded the shuttle... what I said to you..."

He waved her apology away before she had voiced it. "It was the truth."

Kira nodded, feeling great relief that Garak had been right about that matter, and they continued down the corridor until they arrived at their quarters.

"Goodnight, commander," Damar said, hesitating with his hand on the keypad beside the door.

Kira glanced at him to find him gazing at her, and she too paused for an instant as their eyes locked. "Goodnight, Damar," she finally said.

A moment later, she had disappeared inside her room.

Damar closed his eyes and took a deep breath before walking into his own quarters to prepare for a restless night.


	3. Secrets

The tests of the Breen weapon went perfectly, and the experienced scientists at Starbase 516 immediately went to work on drawing up schematics and installation plans for its use on Federation, Klingon and Romulan vessels.

Kira, Damar and Garak had answered questions and given assistance wherever they could, but by mid-afternoon, there was nothing left for them to do but to let the experts do their job.

Damar excused himself to get to work on contacting loyal Cardassians on Dominion facilities near Cardassia Prime. He contacted them via subspace, using Garak's rather complicated but effective method of scrambling the signal. He had reassured Kira and Garak that his contacts were reliable, but once he was in his quarters, doubts began to set it - a nagging feeling he couldn't quite suppress. But there was no way around it - in their situation, they couldn't be choosy about their allies. They needed help. As much as they could get.

Once Damar had finished sending his message, he sat back and reflected on how quickly he'd learned to trust Kira's judgment. When the Federation had first offered her expertise, he had been more than a little reluctant.

And it wasn't difficult to imagine how she must have responded to her assignment either. He snorted, imagining the briefing and Kira's reaction to hearing she was to help him of all people. And with Garak's assistance no less. One had to admire her for her ability to put aside her personal feelings in favour of getting a task done. A job... that's all this was to her, of course. One she never would have chosen, given any other option. Damar was well aware that Kira had no personal stake in Cardassia's plight. If anything, the rapid decline of his homeworld would have to give her great pleasure. She had not forgotten what his people had done to hers, that much was certain.

He hadn't expected forgiveness, but the fierceness of her remark about Cardassian brutality and lack of discrimination between the guilty and the innocent had still shocked him. True, he had been vulnerable at that moment, with the news of his son's death. And his estranged wife's. Kira had astonished him with her own brutality then. But her words had cut into him like a weapon, leaving a gashing wound, sure to become a scar if not taken care of. Or rather, if not taken to heart. Because she had been right. And his people had been wrong. The occupation had been wrong. Dukat had been wrong. And he himself had been wrong to kill Ziyal - another innocent, just like his own son. Another mistake.

Damar realised at that moment just how much of an effort Kira had to be making. How much she must hate him. A lesser soldier - a lesser woman - would have refused, or would have killed him by now, using her position and his desperation for personal revenge. Not Kira.

He bent forward, supporting his aching head in his hands. This building admiration for the Bajoran was yet another mistake. A potentially fatal one. At the very least, a very, very stupid one. Was this his life? His essence? Making one mistake after another?

The door chime rang, and Damar quickly composed himself. "Enter."

The sliding doors parted to admit Garak. "Ah, Legate Damar!" greeted the tailor, as if he had been expecting someone else inside Damar's quarters.

"Why are you so annoyingly cheerful?" Damar muttered, sneering at Garak. He really would have preferred to be alone with his thoughts.

Garak was, as always, undeterred by a cool reception. An exile quickly became used to that sort of thing. "I've just had a most enlightening conversation with Commander Kira."

"Really," Damar said with as much disinterest as he could muster.

"Oh yes." Garak took a seat opposite Damar, placing his hands on his thighs, and sat back with a grin.

"I don't suppose I can stop you from telling me all about it." Damar hoped he wasn't letting on how interested he was in the details of this conversation.

Garak smiled, knowing only too well. "We took a walk through the arboretum, the Commander and I," he declared, delighting in Damar's suspicious glare. "A lovely spot, by the way," he chirped. "There must be a hundred different species of trees there from every corner of the quadrant, to say nothing of the shrubs and sculptures... oh, and the pond!"

"Garak!" Damar said warningly.

Garak grinned. "Apparently, Kira apologised to you last night."

Damar nodded slowly, not sure what Garak was getting at.

"And apparently, I was right. You see, I had told her you'd understand. She'd been somewhat upset by the whole thing, recriminating herself for the timing of her words."

"Why are you telling me this?" Damar asked impatiently, trying not to be too moved by hearing of Kira's regrets. He did wish Garak wouldn't be so long-winded.

"Because I thought you might like to know that your understanding seems to have impressed our lovely ally. And believe me when I tell you that the Commander is not easy to impress." Garak paused there dramatically. Damar stared at him with a very curious expression on his face. "But I must run now. From what I hear, there is a Vulcan clothing store on this base, and war or peace, one must keep track of the competition." With that, he rose and tucked his tunic back into place.

Damar was still staring at the tailor, and there was something in his eyes only a fellow Cardassian could read. Something like hope. Only an inkling of it perhaps, but so much more than Damar would have allowed himself only minutes earlier. Hoping Garak was not overly observant, Damar quickly said, "If that's all you had to tell me, I think I'll lie down and take a nap now, Garak."

Garak smirked. "Of course, Damar. Don't let me disturb you." He moved to the door. "Pleasant dreams."

And he left before Damar could even consider hauling an ornament, padd or piece of furniture at him.

Outside the door, Garak smiled broadly. He'd crack that facade. One of these days. If Kira didn't, he would. But then, Kira would without doubt succeed. The question was - how would she deal with it when that day came? Considering she had, at least for now, no plans of getting to Damar's inner workings.

A shame really. He was beginning to feel sorry for Damar.

Had he not watched Dukat's hopeless mooning over the Commander every time he'd visited Deep Space 9? In Dukat's case, of course, Garak had taken great pleasure in the doomed yearnings of his old enemy. But Damar was far more subtle than Dukat, more wary and cautious, and much more stubborn and private. He would never insist on heaping his unwanted attentions on Kira the way Dukat had always done. He would never try to wear her down with his dubious charms. And perhaps that was just as well. After all, Dukat never did succeed...

Garak smiled.


	4. Deceptions

With the weapon specs ready to be distributed to star bases and fleet headquarters all over the quadrant, Admiral Holiday finally - three days later - gave Garak, Kira and Damar the good news: they could board the Jem'Hadar ship and be off to Cardassia Prime.

The rebels didn't waste another hour, having been packed and ready to leave for two days. Damar quickly contacted Gul Revok once more with their ETA, and they left the base to pick up another group of loyal Cardassians led by a man named Seskal from one of their nearby rebel bases.

Once they were on planetary approach, Kira asked Damar again whether he was certain they could trust the men who were awaiting them on Cardassia Prime.

Damar confirmed that they could, desperately hoping he wasn't letting his allies down. He told Kira that he knew these men to be loyal Cardassians, but he dared not voice his own feelings of unease. They had no choice, after all. And he had no tangible reason to feel uneasy.

"And you're sure you want me around?" Kira asked unexpectedly.

Damar had to remind himself that she was referring to her capacity as Federation ally and rebel 'trainer'. He assured her that to gain the Cardassians' trust, her presence would be necessary as a show of allegiance.

Kira nodded, and Damar picked up his phaser and, together with Garak, followed Kira to the transporter to beam down to their arranged meeting place.

All personal considerations were forgotten the instant the three rebels materialised at their rendez-vous point on Cardassia Prime. The cave into which they transported was full of Jem'Hadar, and they witnessed a veritable massacre of the very Cardassians they'd come to meet - their only military allies on the planet. Worse yet, the man Damar had contacted - Gul Revok - was there, talking animatedly with Weyoun. Damar muttered a curse under his breath. He was in shock at the betrayal, even if it didn't come as a complete surprise. How far his people had fallen - to sell each other to the enemy!

Kira used her communicator to contact the ship. "Seskal!" she hissed. "Get us out of here, Seskal!"

What they heard through Kira's communicator left them in no doubt as to their situation. And when the sounds of destruction were followed by deadly silence, the rebels knew the ship was no longer up there.

And so, within moments, the three of them had lost all known routes of escape. They were alone now. Kira, Damar and Garak were trapped. And there were no more allies left for them to contact on Cardassia Prime. Using their advantage of having mercifully remained undetected by the traitors and Dominion attackers in the cave below, they snuck out by a narrow passageway leading to the dark streets outside.

"We'll have to find a transmitter we can adjust to contact the other bases but block our signal from the Dominion," Kira said.

"I might be able to rig something," Garak said thoughtfully. When Damar and Kira looked at him quizzically, he explained, "If we can get to the capital and Enabran Tain's house. There are a few things in his cellar we might be able to use."

Kira nodded. "You've done this before, I take it?"

Garak smiled. "Something not dissimilar, commander, yes."

"Good. Then that'll be the first place we go."

Garak grinned. "Follow me." Then he stopped, turned and exclaimed, "Oh dear!"

"What's the matter?" Damar asked, looking around, wondering if Garak had heard someone approach them in the dark.

But Garak said, surprisingly, "I'm afraid we'll have to do something about Commander Kira."

Kira's eyes narrowed suspiciously, and her hand moved to cover her phaser. "What are you talking about, Garak?"

"Before you vaporise me, commander, please let me explain." Garak chuckled. "While that Bajoran nose of yours is most becoming, you're going to stand out a little. And there's your Federation uniform as well..." He pondered the problem. "I don't think you'll want to be walking the streets like that."

Kira dropped her hand. "Oh!"

Damar looked her over. "Wait here," he instructed, pushing past her and heading down a narrow side alley.

Kira frowned at Garak.

"I suspect he's gone to steal you something to 'hide' in," the tailor guessed.

No more than a couple of minutes later, Damar returned, carrying some heavy fabric slung over his arm. It turned out to be a long, dark cloak. "Wear this," he said, holding it open for Kira.

She nodded and slipped into the overlong garment in which Damar enveloped her, deciding she didn't need to know how he'd appropriated it. Pulling it closed at the collar, she said, "Now, where to, Garak?"

"Right this way." Garak started walking down the street, keeping to dark corners and shadows.

"Wait!" Damar's voice came from a step or two behind Kira.

"What?" She turned to face him.

He reached over her shoulder and pulled the voluminous hood of the coat forward over her head and slightly into her face, shadowing her decidedly un-Cardassian features from view.

Kira had been about to take a step back and swat his hands away, but when she realised his intention, she felt like a fool. Of course. The coat wouldn't do much good if she didn't cover her head. "Thanks," she muttered under her breath, somewhat embarrassed to be overreacting to such an innocent gesture.

Damar acknowledged her with a quick nod, and the three of them made their way on foot to the Cardassian capital and to Enabran Tain's house.

It was a slow trip, frequently interrupted by one or the other of them pulling the remaining two into a dark doorway or side alley whenever a Jem'Hadar, Breen or Cardassian was spotted.

"I hope you know where you're going, Garak," Damar said eventually.

"Oh, don't worry, Damar. I know exactly where I'm going. Just follow me and try not to be recognised."

Damar snorted.

Kira meanwhile was quite fed up with her disguise. This damn planet was so hot. "You couldn't have found something a bit lighter than this coat, Damar?" she complained.

"I'm sorry, commander. There weren't many choices." Not too long ago, he'd have used the opportunity to make a sarcastic remark, which Kira in turn would have used to imply that he got her this heavy coat on purpose, just to torture her. Maybe they were all just getting too old to keep fighting among themselves?

"I guess not," she said instead, her eyes locking with Damar's. "It's just so hot."

Damar nodded sympathetically, even though he felt the night air was rather chilly.

"Not much further now, commander," Garak reassured.


	5. Allegiances

Soon after, they arrived at the back door to Tain's house, where Garak proceeded to gain them entrance by sweet-talking the elderly lady at the door. Her name was Mila, and she turned out to have been Enabran Tain's housekeeper, as well as something of a confidante to Garak while he had been growing up there. They were shown to the cellar, and Mila told them they could hide there for as long as they needed to. They were also put on cellar cleaning duty immediately, and despite their tiredness, they did their best. After all, this place would have to be their home for a while.

When Mila brought them some food an hour later, all three of them attacked it with vigour. Kira temporarily forgot that she hated Cardassian food. When one got hungry enough, even Tojal Eggs in Yamok Sauce were palatable.

"Is there any chance of getting washed up, Mila?" Kira asked the moment they'd finished.

Mila nodded, pointing out a small room at the far end of the cellar. "It's not much, certainly nothing like you're used to on your Federation space station, but you can heat up some water in there and use the wooden tub."

Kira smiled. "I haven't forgotten yet what it's like to make do without conveniences."

"Then you won't mind one bit." Mila returned her smile. She liked the Bajoran woman. And Garak seemed to like her too; that in itself was quite unusual and spoke very highly of Kira. Mila turned to glance at Damar, who was scrounging through a bag of technical gimmicks the three of them had uncovered in the cellar earlier. She watched how the concentration caused his square jaw to jut forward and his full mouth to form a pout, and sighed. If only she was 30 years or so younger... Then she shook her head, smiling at her own foolishness.

Kira, meanwhile, had walked across the cellar and entered the room Mila had indicated. On seeing the large tub and electric water-boiler, she smiled. "This is much more than I'd hoped for, Mila, thank you!" she called out.

"I'm glad, dear." Mila was gathering up the dishes her three refugees had scraped clean of every last molecule of food. "There are towels and soap in there as well."

"Yes, I see them." Kira returned, shrugged out of her uniform jacket, and hung it on a hook beside the bathroom door.

"I'll bring you down some clothes to wear after you've bathed," Mila offered. "Just leave your old ones on the stairs, and I'll take care of them for you."

Kira frowned. "Are you sure?"

"I can see how tired the three of you are. And it's not that much effort to do a bit of laundry." Smiling at Kira's grateful look, Mila took the tray with the empty dishes and went upstairs.

When she returned a little later with fresh clothes, Garak eyed them with disgust. "I always did tell Tain to let Mila pick his clothes out for him. He had frightful taste!"

Damar shrugged. "I for one don't care. Just as long as they're clean."

"Well, I suppose when you virtually live in a uniform, your sense of fashion dies off after a while," Garak mocked, giving Damar a funny look.

Kira took a look at what Mila had brought her.

"You did prefer trousers?" Mila asked.

Kira nodded. "Definitely." She noticed that her new clothes were a much better fit for her than for Mila's ample form. "Whose are these?" she asked.

"My daughter's." Mila smiled a little sadly. "She's been dead for many years."

"I'm sorry." Kira squeezed the older woman's shoulder.

Garak followed their exchange and, knowing how it upset Mila to talk about Nacile, he chimed in, "Are there any more lamps down here, Mila?"

"There are some dilithium rods somewhere. But I'll bring you down a few candles, just in case. They might make this basement feel a little warmer, too."

"Warmer?" Kira asked, horrified. The room was roasting. She actually, just for a moment, found herself wishing for a Cardassian body.

"It is a little chilly," Garak said. It was a lie, really. The cellar was rather temperate. But he enjoyed the look on Kira's face too much.

Damar looked at Kira as well, then at their hostess. "Would you happen to have a portable cooling unit, Mila?"

Garak uttered a complaint, but he did so with a smirk, so no one worried too much about trying to hear what exactly he said.

Mila smiled. "I believe I do, Legate Damar. I'll bring it down for the commander shortly."

Kira thanked her and, once Mila had left again, she looked at Damar. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," he said, turning away and getting back to the gadgets he'd been working with earlier.

Kira excused herself to have a bath.

The warm, scented water felt wonderful as it pearled off her skin. Kira lay back in the large tub with a soft sigh. Come tomorrow, they would have to figure out a new plan - new ways to find Cardassians loyal to their cause. _Their_ cause... Kira pulled a face, reminding herself to not even start thinking that way. This cause was the Cardassians' own. It had nothing to do with her. So what if she'd been spending weeks with Garak and Damar, confined to underground caves, dark alleyways at night and now this cellar? Just because they were on the same side, it didn't make this her fight. And she'd be damned if she was going to start thinking that way with an indefinitely long time of the two men's company still ahead of her.

Adrenaline - that was all it was. The excitement of once more fighting an uphill battle, after all these years. It didn't mean anything. She had no interest in Cardassia's freedom or lack thereof. These people had killed countless Bajorans. Why should she care? They were like Rusot - barbaric, cruel and pig-headed. Some of them more than others, perhaps, but the fact remained that Kira Nerys would never, ever, be truly on the same side with a Cardassian.

She nodded once, vigorously, to settle that thought in her mind, and sank deeper into the comforting bath.


	6. A Cardassian Legend

Days later, after having exhausted all their resources, having made numerous unsuccessful attempts to contact everyone they could risk to contact, and having heard of the destruction of the eighteen rebel bases - yet another blow to Damar's faith in his own people - the three rebels were still cooped up in their cellar, defeated and at the end of their wits.

Kira and Damar lay on their respective stretchers, facing in opposite directions but with their heads nearly touching. It was almost a visual representation of their relationship: forced into close proximity while having opposing view-points. Although perhaps, their view-points were no longer as opposing as they had been once.

Garak sat close by at the comm-system, trying to pick up any Dominion transmissions that might be useful. He glanced up once in a while and smirked. Kira was, as always, busy. Though due to their circumstances, she was right then busy peeling the covering off a dilithium torch. There really was nothing more useful to do just then.

Damar just lay there, silent as a statue and unmoving, with his hands folded over his middle and the ever-present scowl on his face. But scowl or no scowl, Garak thought, he was a very handsome man.

Garak turned back to his own task, but soon after, he heard the cellar door open, and Mila came down the stairs.

"If only they could see you now," she said wistfully, as she descended into the darkened cellar.

"Who?" Damar grunted.

"The people in the streets. Everyone's talking about Damar and his rebels."

Kira sighed inwardly. "What are they saying? How stupid we were for walking into a Dominion trap?"

Damar added, "How arrogant we were, to think we could beat them in the first place."

Doom in his voice, Garak guessed, "How glad they are that we're all dead."

Mila sat down on the stairs. "Actually, they don't really believe you are dead. You should hear the stories. Damar is alive - my cousin saw him on Kelvis Prime. He faked his own death." In a conspiratorial voice, she said, "He is plotting a new offensive from his secret mountain hideaway."

The corners of Damar's generous mouth twitched.

Garak perked up. "You never told me you had a secret mountain hideaway."

Damar's smirk grew more mischievous. "I was going to surprise you."

Kira turned with a jolt and raised herself up, leaning on one elbow. Her mind was working frantically. "I wonder why they refuse to believe you're dead?"

"They've been lied to so often, they don't trust anything the Dominion says," Damar guessed.

Kira wasn't content with that explanation. "What if it's more than that? What if we've had more impact than we realise?" She sat up, gearing for action. "What if we turned you into a legend?"

Damar snorted. "Some legend!"

But Kira didn't give up. "Don't you see? The people want to believe in you. We can use that. Yes, the organised resistance is gone, but there's an entire civilian population out there that is fed up with living under the occupation. And if Damar - the man they couldn't kill - tells the people to rise up against the Dominion..."

Garak interrupted her with a knowing smile. "Then we might have a revolution on our hands."

Kira looked at him intently, tilting her head in a way that said, 'What are we waiting for?'

Mila grew concerned. "Or you might really get yourselves killed." She had, of course, already gathered that once Kira made up her mind, she would convince Garak and Damar in no time. Garak, obviously, was already on her side.

"Anything's better than rotting in this cellar," Damar promptly agreed. A second later, he too sat up. "How do we begin?"

"Where's the closest Jem'Hadar barracks?" Kira asked, her resignation from the last few days gone and her determination to continue their fight back in full force.

Mila sighed inwardly before telling them what she knew. A look at Garak and Damar told her that while Kira might be their driving force, their energy, they were only too happy to follow her. Mila hoped that once the war was over, Kira would get her due recognition for what she was doing now.

That was if any of them survived to tell the tale...


	7. Man of the People

Damar and Kira stood in the shadows. Kira's face was obscured by the hood of her dark cloak, and Damar stood closely behind her. Neither of them was visible from the street. And they were growing impatient.

"He's been in there too long. Something's wrong," Kira said, unguarded concern for Garak lacing her voice.

At that moment, Garak exited the barracks, holding a padd in his hands. He tried to steal past two Jem'Hadar guarding the place, but they detained him.

"You there! Stop! Let me see your work order," one of them grunted. Both he and his 'colleague' placed a hand on Garak's shoulders, making it clear to him that he wasn't going anywhere until they were done with him.

Garak sighed. "But I showed it to you on the way in."

The Jem'Hadar who'd just taken Garak's padd checked it.

Garak cast an exasperated look in the direction of Kira and Damar. Yes, he was in trouble. There wasn't much time left.

The Jem'Hadar growled, "This has not been approved by the First."

"Ah, yes." Garak smiled amiably. "I can explain that."

Across the street, in the shadows, Damar and Kira were growing very concerned.

"How much time?" Damar whispered.

"The detonator only had a three minute delay. The bomb could go off any second now."

Damar snarled, watching the scene in front of the barracks unfold. "Come on, Garak!" he hissed.

"We have to do something," Kira stated. While Garak was trying to get free of the Jem'Hadar, she and Damar hatched a plan without needing to say a single word out loud.

Meanwhile, Garak was growing quite desperate. "I don't know why you're making such a fuss over this. I have a big repair schedule, and I can't stand here all night arguing with you!"

The Jem'Hadar clearly had no intention of even listening to him anymore. One of them had put through a communication to their division's leader and insisted, "You will wait here until the First arrives."

"And how long will that be?" Garak enquired, knowing full well that it would be too long. Much too long.

Kira turned and gave a quick nod to Damar before sneaking around the corner.

"You will wait," the Jem'Hadar told Garak impatiently.

As soon as Kira was in position, Damar stepped from the shadows. "You! Jem'Hadar!" he called out with disgust in his voice. "Who are you to treat a Cardassian citizen like that?"

Not unexpectedly, the Jem'Hadar who had checked Garak's padd turned and, after a few steps toward Damar to make quite sure, he exclaimed, "It's him! Damar!" Hissing at the other soldier to hold Garak there, he aimed his weapon at Damar. "Surrender yourself or die!"

Damar scowled at him. "I choose... neither."

Before either Jem'Hadar could react, Kira fired at the one aiming at Damar, while Garak drew his knife and rammed it into the other soldier's neck.

At that moment, the bomb inside the barracks went off, a bright ball of light spreading from the exploding building out into the street.

"Back!" Damar shouted to the small crowd which had begun gathering in the square. "Get back!" And he threw himself into a group close to the barracks' entrance, knocking them to the ground and sheltering them from the blast of the explosion.

Once the dust had settled, people stood and began to move towards Damar.

Kira moved in the opposite direction - a step further back into the shadows and out of sight.

A young boy staggered across towards the rebel leader, a smile slowly spreading across his face. "It's Damar!" he declared excitedly. "He's alive."

Murmurs of agreement and awed looks from the dispersed crowd made Damar rise to his feet. "Citizens of Cardassia - hear me!" he exclaimed. "The Dominion told you that the rebellion has been crushed. What you have seen here today proves that is yet another lie!"

Kira watched as the crowd once again gathered, people staggered to their feet and walked up to Damar, taking in the fact that he was indeed standing in their midst. She watched the awed looks on their faces as they listened to Damar, the admiration and the relief, as it sunk in that the man who was going to free them from oppression was still among them. Ready to fight for them.

And Kira was a little awed too, remembering well how important it was to have someone who represents hope for the future and a new life when everything seemed against your people. Not for the first time, but certainly more strongly than ever before, she realised that Damar was the right man to lead Cardassia. He was Cardassia's future, and regardless of how she personally felt about him, he would make a good leader. His past, the mistakes of his predecessors as well as his own, and his pain, had tempered him like a sword of battle. And reluctantly, even Kira had to concede that he would rule with wisdom.

While she was lost in thought, the crowd had surrounded Damar entirely, and he and Garak moved away, together with their fellow Cardassians, to find a safe place to begin making plans.

Kira didn't allow herself to think too hard about her sudden feeling of loneliness. Was her task here over? Should she be leaving Garak and Damar to their own devices, now that it was clear how great their support was among the civilian population, and now that they had acquired sufficient terrorist skills to help themselves? While walking back to Tain's house, she pondered the question.

* * *

By the time she had eaten some of Mila's Darep Stew and had told her all about the night's events, she had come to a decision.

"I'm leaving, Mila."

Mila frowned at her. "Why?"

Kira looked at her in surprise. "Isn't that obvious? My task here is done. Garak and Damar don't need me anymore. I can leave as soon as I can find transport on a safe Cardassian ship or a neutral freight vessel heading back into Federation space."

"So you're going to run away," Mila said.

Kira inhaled sharply. "I have never run away from anything, Mila. And certainly not from... from..."

Mila thought about suggesting, 'From Damar? Or from Garak?' Instead, she settled for, "From a fight?"

Kira nodded. "I've been sent here to do a job. That job is, as far as I can tell, finished. I don't see any of Garak's and Damar's new allies being too happy about a Bajoran intruding on their meetings or planning their attacks with them. Damar's military allies had a hard enough time with that."

"Have you told them yet?" Mila said, not even addressing Kira's arguments.

"No." Kira shifted in her seat and pushed away her plate. "I haven't had the chance yet. I'll tell them when they get back."

Mila sighed. "They won't like it."

"I disagree." Kira avoided Mila's eyes. "There's no love lost between us, Mila. They'll be glad to see the back of me."

"If you say so." Mila stood up and began to clear away the dishes. She doubted Kira's words very much. She knew Garak better than anyone, and if what she had observed in Damar since her refugees had arrived was true, then Kira would find them putting up quite an argument. Both of them.

Kira didn't address the note of doubt in Mila's words. She was confused. Something inside her wanted to keep fighting, but reason told her that her fight was over, that it was time to go home. Back to Deep Space 9 and to her real work. And to her real friends.

"I think I'll go to bed now," she told Mila, rubbing her temples with a couple of fingers to disperse a sudden headache.

Mila turned to face the Bajoran and nodded. "Yes. Sleep on it, Kira."

Kira was going to protest that her mind was made up, but instead, she just excused herself and went back down to the cellar. She'd deal with Garak and Damar in the morning.


	8. Something to Hold on to

When Garak and Damar got back to the house, Mila was already waiting for them.

"Kira has some news for you two," she said, without any preliminaries.

Garak knew her well enough to realise that whatever the news, they weren't good. "Did she tell you what happened?" he asked.

"Yes. And then she told me that she's leaving." Mila looked back and forth between Garak and Damar. She couldn't have said which one of them looked more distraught.

"Did she say why?" Damar asked, his voice oddly dispassionate.

"Oh yes. She gave a number of excellent reasons. Not the least of which was that you two would be glad to see her go."

Garak made a clucking sound and exchanged a look of pure desperation with Damar.

Mila almost laughed. The two men wore expressions not unlike children whose favourite playmate was being taken from them. They both looked ready to go to Kira and plead with her, on their knees if necessary, to stay.

"Let her sleep now," Mila quickly said, realising that if they were to go and implore her right then, they'd only make her run away that much faster. "By morning, all three of you will have had a chance to think over your plans and... strategies."

"Thank you, Mila." Garak leaned forward and kissed her withered cheek. "Always the voice of reason."

Damar shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Why was it that until now, he hadn't once allowed himself to think about this moment - the moment when Kira would decide to go back where she belonged, where she wasn't surrounded by an entire people she hated. What a fool he had been! He didn't say another word, simply nodded to Mila and walked away, headed for the cellar. Garak stayed behind for a moment, watching his departing figure.

"He's taking it very hard," Mila mused. When she looked into Garak's eyes, she sighed. "And he's not the only one."

Garak gave her a rueful smile. "You always have been very observant." He hugged her close. "Good night, Mila."

She touched a hand to his cheek. "Dream up something good, Elim."

* * *

When Kira woke the next morning, it was because someone sat down beside her on the stretcher. Instinctively, she jolted up, reaching for the potential assailant's neck.

Garak's grip on her wrist stopped her hand in midair. "Commander, I must say... It's much too early in the day for me to have done anything reprehensible yet." With that, he presented the reason for his presence on the edge of her stretcher.

"Breakfast in bed?" Kira asked, amused and confused all at once, when she realised the Cardassian was holding a tray full of food.

Garak beamed from ear to ear when he set the tray down on her lap. "I've taken the liberty to extricate some Bajoran food from our replicator."

"Why?" Kira asked suspiciously.

"As a thank you, of course." Garak smiled. "Without your help, we never could have staged what we did last night."

Damar stepped from the shadows. "You made it possible for us to establish contact with our own people again, commander."

Kira cleared her throat. "Yes, well. About that--"

"Hasperat?" Garak picked up the fork from the tray and slipped it into Kira's hand. "I seem to remember hearing it was a personal favourite of yours."

"It is, but--"

Damar had made it to the other side of the bed. "Now that we have the civilian population on our side, we have no time to lose," he declared. "Garak and I have called a meeting for later tonight in the old underground headquarters of the Obsidian Order. We have some ideas how to best attack the Dominion communications arrays in Cardassian space, but we'll need your help to disable their backup systems."

Kira opened her mouth to speak, but Damar stopped her dead with a grateful smile. "You're on your way to becoming quite a legend here yourself, commander. Our people were a little reluctant at first, but when Garak and I told them that without you, there would no longer _be_ a resistance, the decision to go about our plan of attack exactly the way you advise it was unanimous."

That did, finally, manage to force Kira into acquiescence. Her orders were to offer her skills and assistance for as long as they were needed. If they were still needed, she would just have to stay a while longer. And if deep down, she didn't really mind... well, that was for no one but herself to know.

"All right," she agreed. "Do you want me to come along to the meetings, or would you prefer for me to stay here?"

Damar and Garak exchanged a look - very brief, but very telling.

"If you agree, commander," Garak said. "We'd like you to participate in our nightly underground meetings. However, it might be best if you remained here during the day. Security out in the streets will no doubt be stepped up, and you're just a little too easy to recognise."

Kira nodded. "Sounds like a plan."

Damar reached out, about to squeeze her shoulder, but drew his hand back quickly. "Thank you, Kira."

"Don't mention it," she said with a sigh. Then she took a bite of the hasperat - it was perfect.

Garak stood, smiling. He went to join Damar in the far corner of the cellar, where his fellow Cardassian was working on some adjustments to their communications relays.

Damar looked up, and a silent understanding passed between them.


	9. The Wounded

Neither Garak nor Damar were overly surprised when Kira did not stay in the cellar during their daytime attacks. It wasn't how she did things. And after her first, seemingly unwise, venture outside - when she'd saved their hide by appearing in the nick of time in a Breen uniform, killing two Jem'Hadar who had recognised Damar - they didn't even bother objecting anymore. It worked out well. They could go about planting their bombs in Dominion facilities in the capital and, if anyone saw them, Damar and Garak were simply Dominion prisoners, being led from a building by Kira disguised as a Breen.

Once or twice, Kira was forced to speak, which blew their cover, but on those occasions, the Jem'Hadar who had discovered them simply had to be silenced. The three rebels never let down their guard or became lax.

Until about a week later.

Their mission had gone off without a hitch but, unbeknownst to them, some Jem'Hadar had recognised Damar after all. They remained in hiding and followed the rebels down a few streets. Garak and Damar were deep in conversation, exchanging mocking remarks, with Kira following closely behind them, a Breen weapon trained on them.

"I don't believe this. You actually have a secret mountain hideaway?" Garak declared with stunned surprise.

"I never denied it," Damar said, managing to keep a straight face.

"True."

Suddenly, there was phaser fire from a dark side alley. It was impossible to tell exactly where it came from. And then it became clear why - they were being fired at from several directions.

"Let's get out of here!" Damar called out, ducking out of the way while frantically looking for some kind of effective cover.

Kira, who had fallen back a few steps, groaned, "If we're going someplace, could we go now?"

Damar and Garak were by her side instantly.

"What's the matter? Commander?" Garak asked, having picked up on the Bajoran's tone.

Kira slid to the ground, dropping her weapon and clutching at her leg, her face contorted with pain.

"She's been shot," Damar declared in a shaking voice, kneeling beside Kira and carefully moving aside her torn Breen uniform where it barely covered the top of her left thigh anymore. They had managed to shoot her in the one vulnerable place in the Breen armour.

"I'm all right," Kira groaned. "Let's just get out of here."

"Damar! It's the traitor Damar!" came a voice from the far end of the alleyway, and they turned to find a couple of Jem'Hadar aiming their weapons at them.

"Garak!" Damar hissed, and the tailor immediately started firing at them, covering Damar who picked Kira up in his arms and carried her around the next corner.

Kira groaned in pain when Damar leaned her against a wall. She couldn't stand on her injured leg without help, so he wrapped one arm around her waist and took her weight, while he proceeded to shoot at the Jem'Hadar from their hiding place.

Garak joined them moments later, having dispensed with the last two standing Dominion soldiers in a rather gruesome way. "Those breathing tubes are so messy," he said in disgust.

Damar looked at him, then down at Kira's contorted face, his eyes full of concern. "We have to get Kira away from here. Somewhere safe."

Garak nodded. "What about this place of yours? I believe it's time the commander and I got to see it."

"I agree." Damar tightened his grip around Kira's middle and waited for Garak to put his own arm around her from the other side. "If we both help her, we can move faster, and we'll still be able to fire, if need be."

Garak kept a careful eye out when they stepped back into the street. "How are we going to get there without being seen?"

Kira moaned.

"You have an idea, commander?" Damar asked, realising she was trying to say something.

"The merchant... at last night's meeting."

"Lerkal." Damar looked at Garak.

The tailor nodded his agreement. "He has several shuttle craft at his disposal. I'm sure he could let us take one to... to..." He looked at Damar. "Where are we going?"

"Kestellen Province. No more than four hours away by shuttle craft." Damar tilted his head to look into Kira's face. "Can you make it, commander?"

"If you can, I can," Kira said defiantly, tightening her grip around the two men's shoulders to keep herself upright.

Garak smirked. "I knew she'd say that. Let's go!"

* * *

Lerkal turned out to be only too willing to help. He'd lost most of his family when the Dominion had started retaliating against the rebels, and giving Damar the use of one of his shuttles was a small offering to the cause.

"We have to hide out for a short while," Damar explained to him. "A matter of days. Until Commander Kira is well enough."

Kira tried to say something, but the pain was too agonising to allow her to form a straight thought.

Lerkal agreed. "We know the plans for the next few attacks, Damar. Stay safe and out of sight for as long as you have to. We need you..." He gave Kira an intense look. "All of you, to attack the Dominion headquarters."

That attack had been scheduled to take place in less than a week. Everyone had preparations to make, weapons to procure... Until then, the rebel attacks would be few and far between, to make the Dominion think there were only a few loose cannons on Cardassia Prime.

"We'll be back in time," Damar reassured Lerkal.

Lerkal slapped him on the back and took the three of them to the shuttle craft, where he went aboard first and retrieved a case from a small hold underneath the helm. "An emergency med kit. You'll need it."

Damar squeezed his arm. "Thank you, Lerkal. We'll see you in a few days."

Garak said his farewells, while Kira managed no more than a grateful glance in Lerkal's direction. Then they started for Damar's hideout.


	10. Secret Mountain Hideaway

By the time they'd left the capital far behind and were above a seemingly endless stretch of desert, Kira was in a very bad way. Damar was piloting the shuttle, while Garak tended to Kira's wound to the best of his abilities. However, neither of the two men had much medical expertise.

"For once, I wish I'd paid more attention to Doctor Bashir's actual medical procedures and a little less to Doctor Bashir," Garak said in some desperation, when the wound simply wouldn't remain closed.

Damar looked back over his shoulder to the stretcher where Garak was administering to Kira. "It's those damn Dominion phasers. Can't you do anything for her?" he asked, trying very hard to make his tone sound even.

"I'm doing the best I can. If only we could contact Deep Space Nine."

"We can't," Damar said. "If we try to contact the Federation before we've disabled the Dominion's communications system, they'll know our whereabouts in moments."

"I know that." Garak finally managed to close the wound and snapped the skin regenerator's covering shut. "So much for that. Now, if only I could do something about that temperature of hers." He laid a cool palm on Kira's sweat-damp forehead.

The Bajoran moaned and tossed her head from side to side, dislodging the grey hand.

"She has a fever?" Damar asked with concern, turning his face back towards the view-screen to hide the unwelcome emotion.

"Yes." Garak frowned. "How much further?"

"We'll be there within an hour. Keep her cool." Damar sighed softly. "Somehow."

"I'll do my best," Garak assured him.

When the mountain range of Kestellen Province finally came into view, Kira woke from her semi-conscious state. "Where are we?" she murmured.

Garak smiled down at her. "Damar has kidnapped us, commander. He's taking us to his lair."

Kira tried to laugh, but in her inconvenient position, it turned into a cough.

"Hush, try to keep still," Garak instructed softly, making her drink from a glass of cold water he'd replicated minutes earlier.

Kira gulped down the cool liquid, glad of Garak's hand under the back of her neck. She never would have had the strength to hold her own head up. She dazedly wondered what was wrong with her, remembering only that they had been under attack.

"There it is," Damar called out, slowing the shuttle right down as they headed towards what looked like a tropical forest.

"Where?" Garak asked, squinting at the view-screen. He didn't see anything but dense trees.

But a moment later, a small house appeared right in the center of the trees. No one would ever find it unless they knew exactly what to look for. Its colours matched the surrounding vegetation - it was clearly built for camouflage.

Damar landed them softly in a small clearing near the house and then, together with Garak, he helped Kira to the hatch. After walking her carefully the small distance from the shuttle to the house, Damar unlocked the sturdy metal door via the keypad beside it, and they entered a small, sparsely furnished room.

"Where can we lie the commander down?" Garak asked.

Damar nodded towards a door at the far end of the room. "The bedroom is back there. Through that door. If you'll take care of Kira, I'll get that shuttle out of sight."

"All right." Garak lifted her up in his arms to carry her next door, while Damar went back outside.

"So much to do..." Kira mumbled.

Garak set her down on the bed, then gently lowered her on her back, before removing her boots. "Not right now there isn't, commander," he assured her. "In fact, there's only one thing for you to do." The Bajoran seemed to be asleep again, so Garak whispered his instructions. "Get well. You have to, you hear?"

"We must make her as comfortable as we can," Damar said from the doorway.

Garak turned towards him. "Do you have some lighter clothes?"

"I can replicate something." With that, Damar went back to the main room.

He returned a few minutes later with an armful of clothing - a loose green two-piece outfit with wide pants and a long tunic top.

"Nice," Garak said appreciatively, when Damar placed the clothes down on the bedside table.

Damar gave him a funny look. "Tailors," he snorted. Kira murmured something in her sleep. "What did she say?" Damar asked.

Garak looked up at him. "I don't know, but I'm quite certain it was a demand to go back and fight Jem'Hadar."

Damar gave a half-hearted smile. "We have time. Enough time for her to get well. Without her, there's..." He hesitated, a lump forming in his throat when the thought that she might not recover entered his mind.

"No, there isn't, is there?" Garak agreed, his eyes on Kira's flushed, sweat-damp face. "Commander?" he said softly. "Can you hear me, commander?"

Kira opened her eyes. "Where...?"

"It's my home," Damar told her, adding in an oddly dispassionate voice, "The only one I have left."

Garak looked at him seriously. He'd been wondering if that had even begun to sink in.

Turning his attention to Kira, Garak said, "Commander, we have more comfortable clothes here for you, if you'd like to get out of that..." He looked disapprovingly at the Breen uniform. "That shell."

Kira nodded, but immediately groaned in pain and held her head, as she allowed Garak to help her sit up.

"Can you manage on your own?" Garak asked.

"I think so," Kira said, and the two men left the room with instructions for Kira to call out if she needed help.

"I wonder if she'll be able to eat anything," Damar said once they were back in the main room.

Garak narrowed his eyes, thinking. "If I remember correctly, humans consume something called noodle soup on such an occasion. They swear by it."

Damar frowned. "What... how is it made?"

"I have no idea." Garak looked helplessly at Damar. "But I don't advise giving her Cardassian or Klingon food."

Damar forced a smile. "Definitely not." He started to pace the room, picking up random objects, then putting them down again. Edginess was clear in his every gesture. He finally stopped behind the sofa, leaning on the back of it and letting his head fall forward with a sigh.

"Damar," Garak said softly, walking up to place a cool hand on his shoulder. Damar looked back at him. The spark of enthusiasm and hope was gone from his eyes, and their shimmering blue was dulled by worry. "We'll save her, my friend." Garak knew he had no business making such reassurances but, faced with Damar's despair, what else could he do?


	11. Tumbling Walls

A couple of hours later, on the verge of darkness, Damar and Garak had freshened up, made the house cosier, and managed to talk Kira into eating some replicated Bajoran food. She only agreed once they threatened to serve her gagh instead if she didn't comply.

She had a few lucid moments but, by nightfall, her temperature had risen once again.

"We've made her drink all the ice water she can possibly handle," Garak pointed out. "And we've kept her as cool as possible."

"No," Damar disagreed. "We haven't."

"We haven't?" Garak asked, surprised.

"You and I are cold-blooded," Damar explained. "She's warm-blooded. If we lie close to her, our low body temperatures should help keep her cool."

Garak gaped at him. "She'd never allow it."

"No." Damar was about to leave the bedroom where they'd been discussing the matter to go and sit down somewhere to think.

Kira grumbled something.

"Commander?" Garak asked, picking up the glass on the bedside table, thinking she might be thirsty again.

"Do it," Kira said.

"Do what?" Garak asked.

"Damar's suggestion." Kira stumbled over the second word. "It's a good idea."

Damar had stopped in his tracks and turned back. "Are you sure, commander?" he asked.

"No." Kira said, deadpan. "Do it anyway."

Garak and Damar silently prepared for bed and climbed in beside Kira, Damar facing her, Garak spooned along her back. While the tailor apparently had no qualms about the close physical contact, Damar was so uncomfortable, he barely touched Kira.

"Don't you two try anything! This is the oldest trick in the book," Kira warned in a weak voice, despite her earlier acquiescence.

"What book?" Damar asked in honest confusion, jolting when Kira's arm touched his.

Garak grinned, tightening his grip around Kira's waist. "I imagine commander Kira suspects less than honourable motives behind our honest desire to cool her down this way. Among warm-blooded humanoids, sharing body 'heat' is somewhat of a well-worn trick to get better... acquainted."

Damar snorted. "How sneaky of them. Thankfully, we Cardassians aren't like that."

Kira tried to laugh, but all she managed was a croaking cough, while Garak's soft laughter washed over her neck where it lay exposed.

Soon, Kira drifted off again, her fever too high to allow her to stay lucid for more than a few minutes.

Garak settled in as well, remaining pressed close to her with the entire length of his body and his arm over her middle. He lowered his face against the side of her neck and closed his eyes, an unreadable expression on his face.

Damar remained awake for some time longer. Until the sun would set entirely, he was still able to see both Kira and Garak - both of them now asleep - and study their faces. Garak's slight smirk didn't die away with his wakefulness, instead following him into a deep slumber.

Kira wasn't smiling. Her feverish eyes were closed tight, but the tiny beads of sweat on her forehead, her rapid breaths, flushed skin and damp ringlets of red hair sticking to the side of her face didn't add up to a picture of serenity. Even in sleep, she was restless, her mind apparently never ceasing to work.

'She's a beautiful woman,' Damar thought. He never used to like non-Cardassian women, finding them too weak and their bodies too uninteresting for the lack of elaborate ridges. But Kira Nerys... was different. He understood now what he never used to understand at the beginning of the war and during all that time spent on Terok Nor. He understood what Gul Dukat saw in her. Worse yet, he saw it too - the inner strength, the feistiness, the willpower and determination. And when all those strong, resilient characteristics were combined with such a softly feminine body, it was impossible to resist.

But resist he would. The Bajoran would kill him if he so much as laid a finger on her. Besides, that was not his way. He had never forced himself on anyone, not even during the occupation when women had been his for the taking. Whatever other flaws he had - and Damar himself was the first to admit that he had many - casual brutality was not one of them. And when it came to women, he would never let his desire overrule his deep-rooted need to know that the woman he was with wanted him as much as he wanted her. That, sadly, was something that would never happen with Kira Nerys, not while she was healthy or in a fever.

"You're staring at her," Garak said softly, not moving at all except for his eyes, which had opened and were watching Damar intently.

Damar jolted. "I thought you were asleep."

"That was the idea." Garak smiled, raising his head so that his breath as he spoke wouldn't wake up Kira. "I wanted to test a theory."

Damar's eyes became mere slits. "What theory?" he asked, a little hostility tinting his voice.

Garak supported his head with one hand, his arm not moving away from Kira's waist. "Ah well, you see I've developed a theory about you, Damar. I've been observing you for the past few weeks - it's something I'm quite good at, you may have noticed - and I've come to an inescapable conclusion."

"This should be interesting," Damar said mockingly, even while he had the distinct feeling he wouldn't like Garak's conclusion one bit.

"Oh, it is." Garak smiled. "You're falling in love with Commander Kira."

Damar nearly bit off his tongue. Taking a moment to recover, he said, "You should stick to interrogation, Garak. Observation is too subtle for you. You're not good at it."

"Really?" Garak stretched languorously, careful not to wake the sleeping woman between them. "Then tell me, Damar, why is it that whenever you consider yourself unobserved, I see your eyes straying to her? Devouring her one moment and softening the next? Softening so much, at times, that I'm convinced you are actually about to tell her."

Damar frowned at Garak, wanting to deny the accusations and wave them away like an irritating insect, but his mouth wouldn't cooperate. He met Garak's eyes over Kira's face and found himself unable to look away. The tailor was not merely looking at him, he was looking into him. And Damar knew that denying anything would be nothing short of ridiculous when it was all so clear in his own eyes. Garak, right now, was reading in them. Filling in his missing details.

"If I told her, she would kill me," Damar said, feeling somehow relieved at his reluctant admission. He had learned to trust Garak over the past few weeks as he'd found more and more similarities between himself and the exiled tailor. Nothing obvious, but there was a subtle affinity there. For a time, he too had been exiled form his home-world when he'd traveled the quadrant with Dukat. For a time, he'd been far from Cardassia and hated every moment of it. And, like Garak, he wasn't simply fighting for Cardassia's freedom now, but for his own. The freedom to return home. They were fighting the same battle, together. And, oddly, so was Kira.

Garak was watching Damar. "I'm not so sure about that," he said.

"What?" Damar asked, confused by the multitude of thoughts warring in his brain and unsure which one Garak was addressing.

"I'm not sure she would kill you," Garak said thoughtfully. Then he smirked. "Not straight away, anyway."

Damar tried to laugh, but when he felt Kira shift against him, his laughter died in his throat. He watched as she murmured something in her sleep and nestled against him, her face rubbing against his neck, and her hand moving between them and forming a fist against his chest.

Garak watched with a smile, not failing to see the terrified reaction in Damar's face to the sudden and unexpected intimacy. He also didn't miss the appropriateness of Kira's position against Damar - pressed so close, yet her fist raised ready to strike. "That's probably exactly how she'd react," he told his fellow Cardassian, lying down on his side to form a protective shield around Kira's back, his arm this time staying off her sleeping form. There was no need for him to wrap it around her - Damar's arm was there now, and he could feel just the faintest trembling in Damar's fingers where they touched his own belly.

* * *

Kira was not the only one with feverish dreams that night.

Damar, at first, dreamed of ice. He was surrounded by it on all sides, trapped with no way out, until a warm beacon of light moved towards him. When he touched it, the beacon's warmth began to flow into him, filling his entire body until he was warm all over, inside and out.

He felt alive. So very alive. Invincible. The light suffused his entire being, almost as if it was his very life-force. He wrapped his arms around it, enclosing them both into a little world of their own, away from everything else. It was a world where nothing that had come before mattered anymore. He was so happy. She felt so good against him... She?

Damar opened his eyes, realising instantly that he was in trouble. During the night, his arms had closed around Kira, and her fist had flattened out into a palm lying flat against his heart. Her face was turned so that her temple and the soft hair falling over it were touching his neck-ridges. And, what was more, one of her legs had wound up between his thighs, just resting there, perfectly still. Inches away from his erection. He groaned, biting his lip to suppress the sound.

Kira snuggled closer still, her leg sliding along the length of Damar's own, the friction more than he could stand in his present condition. He had to get up. Immediately.

Only a moment more... The sweet, sleepy scent of Kira's hair against his chin, her warmth... a warmth she would never gift him with if she weren't asleep, sick and vulnerable. Too vulnerable - it was a sobering thought!

Damar slipped out of her embrace, more reluctantly than he would have ever thought possible. His body may have decided to betray him, but he was not going to betray Kira, even in spirit.

He finally managed to get free of her without waking her, in the process discovering that her fever still hadn't dissipated. His forehead creased with worry.

He observed her reaction to the loss of contact, the displeased moan and slight furrow of her brow nearly changing his mind and making him climb back into her embrace.

Kira's hand unconsciously searched the just vacated pillow beside her head and, finally, she gave up with a sleepy sigh, clutching the pillow instead and rubbing her cheek against it.

Damar held his forehead, hoping to cool it with his palm.

Garak, apparently, was not susceptible to sleep troubles. Almost as soon as Kira's fingers had clenched the soft pillow, Garak's arm moved over her as it had done earlier that night, this time finding her hand and laying his own over it.

Damar watched as their fingers intertwined on his own pillow. He let out a sigh and turned, needing to find a still, cool and lonely spot to himself.


	12. Enough Pain to Last Forever

He had wandered through the nearby woodlands for at least an hour, having spent some of that time simply lying on his back, staring up at the morning sun, until he thought it might blind even his self-shielding eyes.

When Damar was close to the cottage again, he saw Garak exiting it and heading towards him as though he had expected him.

"How is she?" Damar called out, as soon as he was in earshot.

"No different, I'm afraid." Garak sighed. "If only we had access to medication. All we can do is keep her cool."

Damar nodded. He was at his wits' end. Just how much could it hurt to lose someone you've never been allowed to call your own? Garak's eyes were focused on him. "Observing again?" Damar asked with a sigh.

"Yes, I am." Garak frowned. "And I think I ought to tell you that if Kira could see you now, she'd be reading you like an open book." Damar snorted. "You're not very good at hiding your emotions, are you?" Garak asked without malice. Simply... observing.

Damar looked him straight in the eye. "I don't have emotions, don't you know? If you were to ask Kira, she would be happy to tell you that."

If there was a trace of hostility in Damar's voice, it was masked by his hurt. Garak decided to just concentrate on that. There had been enough hostility between the three of them to last them for a lifetime.

When Garak was so uncharacteristically silent, Damar couldn't help but challenge him. "You should know. After all, I killed Ziyal." The moment he'd said it, he wished he could take it back.

To Damar's stunned surprise, Garak simply replied, "You had to," before going back inside and leaving Damar to his thoughts.

* * *

Though Kira's fever had dropped a little during the day, by night-time it was up again.

Damar and Garak had managed to force a bit of water through her lips, but making her eat anything was impossible.

"We have to do something!" Damar declared, struggling to keep a rising panic from his voice as he stood at the foot of the bed, looking down at Kira.

Garak stood next to him, briefly squeezing his arm. "We will. I may have an idea."

Damar looked at him pleadingly. "Anything!"

"If we can fill up that tub in the bathroom with cold water and get her in there, we might be able to lower the fever."

"What?" Damar was horrified. "The shock could kill her!"

Garak shook his head. "That fever will kill her if we don't do something. Do you have a better idea?"

Shaking his head slowly, Damar had to admit defeat. He followed Garak into the next room to prepare the tub.

Garak explained to Damar, "While she was carrying the O'Brien's baby, she had a fever a few times. Quite normal for pregnant Bajorans, apparently. Dr Bashir wanted to lower it through medication, but she did it herself by sitting in a cold tub for at least 5 minutes, insisting that was how it was done on Bajor."

Damar frowned. "How do you know?"

"Dr Bashir tells me lots of things," Garak simply said.

Damar raised an eye-ridge. "All right. Let's get on with it."

* * *

Minutes later, Garak had retrieved a few fresh towels and placed them by the side of the full tub. All that was left to do was to get Kira in there.

"I think you should do it," Damar stated, knowing he was being a coward.

Garak nodded. "We'll have to undress her."

"No!" Damar shook his head, looking rather alarmed. "We can't do that."

Sighing, Garak pointed out, "We'll have to do it either before or after we put her into the tub. It will be easier before-hand." When Damar still looked skeptical, he added, "Would you put her back to bed in soaking wet clothes? That would seem to nullify our effort, don't you think?"

"Of course," Damar conceded. "But..."

"Yes?"

"I still think you should do it." Damar looked quite embarrassed.

Garak smiled. "Whatever makes you think I'm immune to the charms of the lovely commander?" Damar's jaw dropped. "Well, let's do it together," Garak suggested.

Damar shook his head vigorously. "I can only imagine her reaction when she wakes up to find the two of us undressing her."

"You do have a point," Garak admitted. "But one of us has to... no, wait. You undress her and I'll carry her to the tub. How about that?"

Having to admit that Garak's solution was only fair, Damar agreed reluctantly.

They went to the bedroom, finding Kira tossing and turning restlessly. Garak gave Damar a little push, directing him towards her. Then, he went back next door to make sure everything was prepared.

Damar sat down on the very edge of the bed, wishing desperately that there was another way to do this. He only hoped that Bajorans were at least somewhat less horrified by the idea of nakedness than Cardassians. He finally reached forward, stilling Kira's feverish movements with his hands around her wrists.

She seemed to relax instantly, and Damar could turn her towards him and raise her upper body. He went to work on the buttons of her pyjamas, working as fast as he could in the hope of avoiding waking her up.

Finally able to slide the top down over her shoulders, Damar slowly lay her back down, making sure to divert his eyes from her smooth, round breasts. He tugged the loose pants all the way off, removing Kira's underwear along with it to speed up the whole thing and, incidentally, to avoid having to touch her intimately.

"Ready," he finally called out shakily, getting up off the bed and looking pointedly out the window while Garak entered the room and, with a smirk in Damar's direction, went to pick Kira up off the bed.

Garak carried her to the bathroom and, taking a deep breath, because he could only imagine what she was about to experience, lowered her into the tub.

The shocked cry alerted Damar, and he ran across the bedroom and into the bathroom, to find Garak struggling to contain the Bajoran, her feverish eyes now wide open and her hands reaching desperately for the edge of the tub, all her instincts telling her to get out of the freezing cold at all costs.

Damar held the door frame tight, the bones in his fingers cracking with the force of his grip.

Garak threw him an exasperated glance. "Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to help me?"

Damar nodded jerkily and went to kneel by the side of the tub, taking one of Kira's arms and, with one hand putting pressure on her shoulder, keeping her in the water.

Kira's teeth were chattering, and she continued to struggle, but her depleted energy reserves didn't allow her to put up much of a fight so, eventually, she simply confined herself to glaring at her torturers.

She didn't seem quite lucid. The angry looks were the only indication that she was even aware what was going on. Her body merely reacted to the shock of the cold.

Garak hated what they were doing. He'd long lost his taste and penchant for torture, if he'd indeed ever had it, and this - although a desperate attempt to save Kira's life - was nothing short of torture.

Damar felt a wave of compassion. She looked so vulnerable, at their mercy like this, and it just didn't seem right for Kira to be in such a position. "How much longer?" he asked of Garak, who was equally impatient about breaking off this therapy.

Garak checked the wall clock. "Two more minutes."

Groaning, Damar tried to make contact with Kira's eyes, hoping he could reassure her instead of frightening her more. "Nerys, listen to me," he said softly. "We have to do this. Your fever _has_ to go down, and soon, do you understand?"

When her face turned towards him but her eyes remained blank, he implored, "Nod if you understand. Please."

Kira blinked a few times and, finally, nodded.

"Good." Damar let out a sigh of relief. "We're almost done. Only another minute now," he said, casting a sideways glance at Garak to have that confirmed.

"That's right." Garak smiled, watching as Damar stroked Kira's bare shoulder lightly, noting she didn't jerk away from his touch. It had not escaped him either that, in his concern, Damar had slipped and called the commander by her first name.

Seeming a little more lucid now, Kira tried to say something, but the chattering of her teeth prevented her. "You... you... have to..."

Damar leaned forward. "What do we have to do?"

Kira swallowed, trying to get her teeth under control. "You have to... to... push me under." She gulped again. "Just... for a moment."

Garak and Damar looked at each other, then Damar turned back to Kira and said. "Now."

She nodded, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.

Damar placed one hand on the top of her head and pushed her down, feeling her resist despite her own instructions. The moment she was entirely submerged in the cold water, he withdrew his hand and she bobbed up again, gasping frantically.

"Enough! Let's get her out of there." Garak picked up one of the large towels and, with Damar's help, pulled Kira to her feet.

Damar wrapped the thick towel around her shivering form and lifted her over the edge of the tub, standing her on the heated floor while he toweled her hair dry quickly and efficiently.

Meanwhile, Garak went next door, changing the sweat-damp sheets and pulling back the covers.

Damar carried Kira back, keeping her wrapped in a fresh, dry towel. She seemed unconscious again. Her head was leaning against his shoulder and her arms hung down limply. "We never thought of what to dress her in."

Garak swore under his breath. He went to the next room of the cottage where he searched a wardrobe frantically. When he returned with a warm-looking set of white pyjamas, he instructed, "Let's get her dressed and back to bed."

This time, Damar didn't waste time with embarrassment, instead placing Kira gently on the bed, kneeling behind her to hold her, while Garak dressed her like a child.

"These clothes!" Garak declared.

"What about them?" Damar asked, confused.

"They're much too big." Watching the pyjamas hang limply from Kira's slim frame, Garak sighed.

"Does it matter?" Damar muttered, laying Kira down gently. Before he helped her to slip under the covers, he took over from Garak, pushing aside the top of her pyjamas to make a knot in the waistband of her too loose pants. Their task finally accomplished, Garak and Dukat stood by the foot of the bed, watching Kira drift off to sleep.

"Kanar?" Garak asked.

Damar nodded, and they went to the next room.

"How long until we know if it worked?"

Garak shrugged. "A few hours, I believe. But it was probably a good sign that she came to for a while. She seemed to know what was going on."

Damar wouldn't allow himself to be too optimistic. "That could have just been the shock."

"I don't think so. If it had just been that, she would have probably managed to do some serious damage to us both, fever or not."

They exchanged a nervous chuckle.

"I'm going to sleep on the sofa tonight," Damar said out of nowhere.

Garak smirked. "Really?"

"Why do I get annoyed every time you smirk like that?" Damar asked grouchily.

"Because I know too much?" Damar looked at Garak with a half-angry, half-amused frown. "And because you get annoyed easily, my friend."

Damar was about to protest Garak's last words but, when he thought about it... they were friends. And Garak did seem to know him well. Garak and Kira were, right now, the only people he had in his life. "You're right," he admitted, and they shared a smile.

A glass or two of Kanar later, Garak frowned at Damar. "You look exhausted."

Damar averted his eyes and took another gulp of his drink. "I'm fine."

Garak refilled both their glasses. "You didn't sleep very well last night, did you?"

Damar shook his head, too tired to spin tales. He wasn't sure why, but he actually volunteered more information than needed. "I was too worried."

Garak nodded understandingly. "She's strong. Stronger than any woman I've met in my life, even if she looks as if she might break in two at any moment." He sighed. "She'll get through this."

"You admire her," Damar observed.

Garak finished his glass. It was a long time before he answered the question. "Who doesn't?" And he stood up and left, not seeing Damar's hesitant smile.


	13. Catch Me, I'm Falling

True to his word, Damar prepared himself the sofa for the night. He was used to sleeping in cramped and entirely unusual places, and this was superior to most he could remember in his recent past. Garak teased him mercilessly, of course, but Damar suspected that much of that was an attempt to distract him. Like Garak, he couldn't help nervously checking on Kira every few minutes.

Her temperature had normalised a little since their experiment, but her breathing was uneven, and she tossed and turned as though in pain. Damar, checking one last time before getting settled on the sofa, frowned in deep concern.

"Don't worry. I'll call you if there's any change for the worse," Garak assured him, no hint of teasing in his voice now.

Damar nodded, letting his gratitude show in his face. Then he bundled up a pillow and a simple blanket and went to try and rest.

Amazingly, he actually managed to fall asleep, only to wake suddenly with the distinct feeling that something was wrong. He bolted upright, the blanket falling off him as he shot to his feet. Trying to get his bearings in the nearly dark room, he swayed unsteadily.

A slim figure was hovering by the doorway to the bedroom.

"Kira!" Damar gasped out. The sparse moonlight coming through the room's single window showed him that she was barely conscious. Her face was flushed, and the exposed skin of her neck and collarbone bore a slight sheen of sweat. How she had managed to stand up by herself, let alone walk as far as she had, Damar couldn't begin to imagine. He rushed towards her, catching her just as she crumpled and was about to fall.

"So... thirsty," she managed to croak, her voice dry and raspy.

Damar scooped her up easily and carried her to the sofa he had just vacated. "Will you be able to sit here without falling off while I get you some water?" he asked. She muttered some sort of response, and he decided to assume it was an affirmative. After having reassured himself that if she fell, it would only be into a prone position, Damar rushed to the kitchen and poured a glass of fresh mountain water. His heart was pounding in relief and concern at once, and he hurried back to her side as quickly as he could.

She had indeed fallen, lying tangled up in his blanket, her head resting on his crumpled pillow.

Damar sighed. He would never be able to find rest there now. But there were more pressing things to worry about. He leaned over her to raise her gently back up, then sat down and pulled her to his side.

Kira was unusually heavy against him and, where they touched, Damar's skin was burning, even through his pyjamas. He could no longer blame it on her fever because, to his great relief, that had apparently all but vanished during the night. He theorised that she had woken feeling better, and then promptly exhausted herself by walking around. Steadying Kira with one arm around her narrow shoulders, Damar raised the glass to her lips and gently instructed her to drink.

She obeyed as if in a trance, but the main thing was that she did obey. It had been difficult, to say the least, to make her drink enough water to avoid dehydration during her fever. At least now, she drank of her own accord. In fact, once the cool liquid touched her parched lips and she had a first taste, her face tipped up, and she reached for the glass to speed the supply of water.

Damar smiled. "Slowly, Nerys. I'm not taking the glass away from you."

Maybe she didn't hear him, or maybe she didn't believe him, but she tried to tip the water into her mouth more quickly, which resulted in her small hand closing over Damar's.

He gasped sharply, nearly crushing the glass, then forced himself to relax his grip.

Finally, when she had drained all the water, she slumped back with a sigh, and her hand fell away from Damar's, landing, unfortunately, on his thigh.

He suppressed a curse and set the glass down on a small nearby table, turning back to find Kira awkwardly tilting against him once more. "Come on, I'll take you to bed," he said in a voice that was too soft, too intimate. He bit his lip, but it was too late to stop the words.

"No. Please. I don't want to move," Kira murmured, and her head fell against his shoulder.

Damar sighed. Apparently, Kira had decided the sofa was more appealing tonight, and he didn't dare cause her any distress. After brief deliberation, he gave in, and after some shifting back and forth and propping up his pillow, he drew her on his lap, where she instantly settled in comfortably, her head on his shoulder, and he enfolded both of them in his blanket. It would be a long night.

* * *

A soft chuckle was what finally woke Damar, and he found himself looking up into Garak's broadly smiling face. At the same moment, awareness of Kira's weight in his arms returned to him, and he felt himself flush. "Not a word!" he growled sleepily. Garak raised his hands defensively, still laughing. "She came to me. I did nothing," Damar explained, then cursed himself silently for his defensiveness.

"Hmm... Yes, that is interesting, don't you think?" Garak stated enigmatically, and was about to turn towards the kitchen, when Kira shifted in Damar's arms and slowly opened her eyes.

"Good morning, commander." Garak grinned infuriatingly.

Kira suddenly became aware of her position and, after staring at Damar's face - a mere couple of inches away from hers - she pushed against his chest with both hands and struggled to her feet, only to sway unsteadily and tumble back into his lap, entangled as she was in their shared blanket.

Garak laughed out loud, and Damar cursed. "Commander, let me explain."

"I... no, I... dammit!" Kira swore at the blanket while jerkily unwinding it from around her legs, before she managed to slide off Damar's lap and onto the couch beside him, putting some distance between them. "I know, I... remember coming out here last night..." She frowned in concentration. "I got up because I was thirsty."

"You refused to let me help you back to bed," Damar chimed in carefully, hoping to coax her memories back in full before she would draw completely wrong and damning conclusions.

"Yes," Kira said hesitantly, assessing him and finding him even more embarrassed than she was herself. She combed her hair back with her fingers, then turned to the still chuckling Garak. "What's so funny?"

With a big grin, the Cardassian stated, "What isn't?" Then he grew serious. "How are you today, commander? You gave us quite a scare, you know."

"Better, I think." She rubbed her hands over her own arms, the morning chill settling in now that she had left the cosy cocoon of Damar's blanket. "I don't remember much, except for a lot of jumbled dreams..." With this, she glanced briefly - almost too briefly to be sure - in Damar's direction, then hastily continued, "And you two dunking me into freezing water!"

"Ah yes, we truly are sorry about that," Garak said. "Though it appears to have done the trick."

Kira nodded. "Did Julian teach you that?" Garak smiled proudly. "I suppose I ought to thank you, unpleasant though it was," Kira said.

"Think nothing of it." Garak pointed towards the kitchen. "I expect you're hungry? We've had quite a task making you drink anything. We hardly dared to try for food."

"I think I might be a bit hungry, yes." Garak immediately excused himself to take care of breakfast, and Kira glanced at Damar, who had remained very quiet, casting furtive glances at her. In an almost amusing way, he looked like he might worry about her hitting him. Again. A smile tugged at her lips; obviously, her lethargy brought out her sense of humour. "Thank you, Damar," she said.

He looked surprised at this. He was going to say 'you're welcome', but what slipped out instead was, "I thought we'd lost you." There was no mistaking the emotion in his voice and, horrified, he stood and hurried across the room and out the front door.

Garak emerged from the kitchen, wearing an apron and holding a spatula. "Commander?" Kira sat on the couch, looking very confused. "For what my word is worth, commander, Damar behaved like a perfect gentleman while you were indisposed." Almost as an afterthought, he added, "For the record, so did I."

Kira squinted at him. "I... I know. I never implied otherwise." She looked helpless for the first time since Garak had met her, and was that regret he saw in her eyes, staring after Damar as they did? Well, well... However, he felt it only right to buy his fellow Cardassian some time before this inevitable confrontation came about. "I think Damar's recent... loss is only beginning to sink in now. You see, he's been kept quite busy with your illness and so forth."

"He really was worried then," Kira said dispassionately, as though she didn't know what she thought of that.

"Yes." Garak followed her gaze. "We both were." He missed her surprised glance after him when he returned to finish making breakfast.

Damar didn't join them, and Garak sat opposite Kira, observing her this time, as she sipped herbal tea. Her plate was barely touched, but she had eaten more than during the entire fever ordeal, so he truly couldn't complain.

"Do you know anything about Damar's family, Garak?" she asked finally.

Garak pondered this. "I know he adored his son, and vice versa. As for his wife - I believe there was no love lost between them, but he would feel responsible for her nonetheless."

Kira nodded silently, then returned to her tea. She vaguely remembered noting that Damar had only referred to his wife as 'her', not by name, not even as his wife. Why she had noted this, she could not recall.

Garak watched Kira's forehead creasing thoughtfully, and he would have given a lot to learn just what was tumbling about in her mind. Instead, he remained silent while they finished their meal, wondering when Damar's appetite would get the better of his embarrassment. He hid his smirk behind his cup.

Kira eventually stirred, rubbing at her eyes tiredly. "I think I might go outside for a few minutes. My head feels like a vacuum. I could use some oxygen."

Garak nodded. "We kept the bedroom ventilated, but I'm sure that was only barely sufficient."

Kira looked at him with a curious expression. "I really am grateful, Garak. For everything you did these last few days." She swallowed. "I wouldn't have made it without your care."

Garak smiled. "Think nothing of it, commander. Besides, I'm only half of your nursing staff." He stood up and gathered up the plates, retreating discreetly into the kitchen.

Kira scanned the living room for the rug she - or rather, they - had slept in and, with the warm wool draped tightly around her shoulders, she made her way outside. It caught her entirely by surprise to find Damar sitting on the front steps, his knees drawn close to his body, and his head bent. The combination of the pose and his unusually casual attire made him look oddly vulnerable. Kira tried to shake the thought off.

"Damar," she greeted softly, and went to walk past him towards the nearby trees, but his silence made her turn back and look down at him. From what she could see of his face, he was in distress. Aware that Cardassians couldn't cry, she nonetheless was certain that he was on the verge of tears. Somewhat awkwardly, she moved towards him and settled beside him on the step.

He drew in a shaky breath. "You shouldn't sit out here, commander. You're not well enough."

Kira snorted. "I'm fine, Damar. No need to play nurse anymore." No, that had come out all wrong. She truly was grateful for all his care. "You and Garak saved my life," she mused. "I..."

"Would have done the same for either of us?" Damar asked with an unidentifiable emotion colouring his voice.

"Until a short while ago, no, probably not," Kira said with brutal honesty.

Damar gave a soft grunt. "And you would have been right not to."

Kira gave him a curious sideways glance. "Why do you say that?"

Damar returned her gaze, his eyes red-rimmed as they had been when he'd heard of his family's execution. "You know as well as I do, commander, that my people are undeserving of kindness. In fact, you knew it long before I did." He moved to stand, but Kira's hand on his forearm stopped him.

"Damar." She cleared her throat and waited for some of the tension to leave his muscles again. "There is nothing in your past or mine to make us anything but bitter enemies. Nothing whatsoever to mend all the hurt, the grief, the hatred..." Damar didn't dare breathe, simply looking not quite at Kira, but past her. "You hate everything I stand for, and me, of course," she continued.

Damar bit his tongue to prevent himself from correcting her on that point. Then he said, "And vice versa."

Kira didn't comment on this. "Yet you were able to trust my judgment in setting up your resistance. And you saved my life when it would have been easier to let me die without having to take any blame for it. In fact, you've saved my life twice now."

"I do _not_ wish you dead, commander." Damar's chest contracted painfully. He wished she would stop. A muscle in his cheek was twitching with suppressed emotion.

Kira felt helpless. Garak had hinted that Damar's loss had finally become fully clear to him, but she'd had no idea how much pain he was in. She admitted to herself that, perhaps, she would have to revise her theory that Cardassians were virtually incapable of feelings. Perhaps it was time to become more understanding, or she herself would be in danger of growing into the kind of cold, heartless creature she accused them of being.

Reaching one hand out hesitantly, she laid it on Damar's shoulder and shifted a little closer to him. The proximity didn't feel as strange as it should, but then, she had apparently slept cradled in his arms, so that was hardly surprising.

Damar's pulse pounded in his ears. How could such a simple touch affect him so? He was at a loss as to how to react. Should he shake off her hand and avoid dealing with this, or should he say something? Eventually, when her hand remained where it was for a few silent moments, his own hand settled on top of Kira's almost of its own accord. He was more than a little surprised when she did not withdraw.


	14. Healing Old Wounds

Between them, Garak and Damar managed to talk Kira into staying in bed for the rest of the day, supplying her with plenty of teas and fruit nectars, as well as a selection of Bajoran dishes to tempt her slowly returning appetite.

"We ought to get back to the capital," she protested when a glass and bottle of Bajoran spring wine - of the synth variety - were placed on the bedside table.

"Not quite yet, commander. We have three more days for you to recover completely before the attack on Dominion headquarters. There really is nothing pressing for us to do."

Kira shook her head. "I'm not that sick anymore. I ought to be doing something. I should--"

"You nearly died, Nerys," Damar said softly from where he stood gazing out the window, not turning around to face her as he did so.

She raised an eyebrow, unable to remember him ever having called her by anything but her rank or surname. Not counting her disturbing, feverish dreams, that is.

Garak looked with great interest back and forth between them, then said, "I agree with Damar. Commander Kira, as much as I usually admire your stubborn streak, this time you really must listen to reason."

Kira sighed, knowing that, without her companions' cooperation, she'd be going nowhere, and though she'd never admit it out loud, she did feel far too weak to do anything drastic. "Fine. All right. I'll just sit here and wait."

"That's the spirit," Garak praised with a cheeky grin. "Now, if you two don't mind, I'm going for a walk. Being cooped up in here feels far too much like being back on that blasted space-station."

Damar looked at Garak, his eyes pleading with him to stay, but the tailor winked as he left the room. Damar was about to follow when Kira called out to him. "Yes?" he asked, turning back to face her.

"Join me in some of this spring wine?"

Damar despised the sweet prickling of Bajoran spring wine, but for the chance to sit with Kira - at her invitation, no less - he would willingly devour blood wine. "Thank you. I'll just get another glass."

"I don't mind sharing." Kira held her glass before her and poured some of the bright liquid, then held it out to Damar.

The Cardassian took it, surprised that Kira would willingly drink from the same glass with him. "Thank you, commander."

"You called me Nerys earlier."

Damar lowered his eyes, staring into his drink as though it was the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen. "I'm sorry. Slip of the tongue."

"No, it's..." Kira swallowed. "It's all right."

Damar nearly upended his glass on the duvet. "Are you certain?" he asked shakily.

Kira let out a humourless little laugh. "I'm not certain about anything these days, Damar."

"I know what you mean." He looked at her, weighing up his next words. "My first name is Andiro, by the way." Kira looked surprised at this. "What?" Damar asked with a grin.

"I thought all Cardassian first names were two syllables long."

Damar laughed. "I can see why you would think so. But no, we're not entirely predictable."

Kira smiled at him, and Damar was sure that, late afternoon or not, the sun had just grown brighter. "I'm learning that these days, Andiro."

He shivered at the sound of his name on her lips, daring to fool himself into thinking that it sounded much softer than the way she used to say 'Damar'.

"Are you cold?" Kira asked, surprised. She could not imagine ever being cold anywhere on Cardassia, except during her illness.

"I... no, I'm fine." He quickly sipped a little more wine, then returned the glass to her.

Without hesitation, Kira drank it, her eyes remaining on his analytically as she did so.

Damar could not decide whether to focus on her huge, inquisitive eyes, or the way her lips pursed at the rim of the glass, and decided that, if Garak was right about his being like an open book, he ought to do neither.

Kira's brows drew together a little, crinkling her nose endearingly. She had thought to have seen this particular look in Damar's eyes before, but he had always glanced away too quickly to be sure. She was reasonably sure now, however, almost as sure as she was of his having noticed the way she'd focused on his full lips when he'd been drinking. For an unsettling moment, she wondered whether the fever had damaged something in her mind.

The moment passed when Damar stood abruptly. "I should--"

"Andiro." Kira let the name roll off her tongue again and, to her surprise, she liked it. "Sit down again." Without thought, she reached for him, and her hand closed around Damar's pale wrist.

He obeyed, willing his pulse to stop racing before Kira would notice. He tried to tug his wrist from her grasp, but she refused to let go. "Nerys..." he began.

"Let's just talk," she offered. "About everything. The past. The things we did."

Dread and expectation warring in his mind, he nodded. "You start."

And she did. Keeping her voice entirely neutral, she talked about her time with the Bajoran underground, about how she'd felt during the occupation, what she'd done, and how she'd planned and executed the deaths of so many Cardassians that it still haunted her dreams. Then she talked about how much she hated Dukat, and how much she'd hated him, Damar, and had wanted desperately to kill him after he'd shot Ziyal. Ignoring the pained expression in his eyes as best she could, she proceeded to tell him of her stunned anger at being forced to help him and Garak and, finally, she told him about how this fight - their fight - had made her feel free and energetic and sad again, just as she'd felt in the Bajoran underground. And how she had come to realise, finally, that not all Cardassians were insane, unfeeling butchers, but that anyone, regardless of who they were, was capable of acts they would regret for the rest of their lives. She had done such things, and she knew Garak and he, Damar, had, and she had finally realised that she was not the only one with regrets. She told him she had grown to understand and even admire him and Garak, and that while she had been blind where it came to her friends and their stained histories, not to mention her own, she had been equally blind when it came to her enemies, and that she thought, at last, it was time for forgiveness.

By the end of all this, her voice had become choked and her lips were trembling, and Damar had to use all his willpower to not pull her into his arms. Instead, he merely nodded, and then began to talk to her. He spoke of how he had at first blindly followed Dukat, then the Dominion. How instead of standing his ground, he had sought comfort in drinking himself into a stupor again and again, until he became convinced that he truly was as weak and insipid as his various superiors made him out to be. He did not gloss over what he perceived to be his cowardice, or over his wrong decisions. He told her about the nightmares which had plagued him after he'd killed Ziyal. He told her that, when she and Garak had come to help him and his resistance group, he had felt not only sure that she would kill him at the first opportunity, but that he would have welcomed it. Then he told her how impressed he was not only with her skills, but with her willingness to put aside personal differences and actually truly help him. And finally, when Kira's hand was no longer clenched around his wrist but instead entangled with his own, he told her that he admired her for more things than he could name, and that there was nothing, not even the liberation of his home world, that meant as much to him as her forgiveness.

Kira listened, tears glistening in her eyes, and then she reached out and took his other hand, too.

Damar shifted closer, just a little, as his thumbs stroked over the backs of her hands in small, soothing circles, while his eyes - a swirl of emotions in shades of green and blue and grey - held hers, willing her to know that he was being sincere.

Shivering, Kira lifted their joined hands and brought them together against her cheek, where her tears sank into Damar's skin.

He whispered her name, leaning forward with the intention to embrace her, and she moved to meet him, when the front door slammed into its lock, and they both jolted apart again.

"Just me!" Garak called out cheerfully from the lounge.

"Damn him," Damar muttered, then shared a small, nervous laugh with Kira, before his eyes grew serious once more as he tenderly swept her remaining tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. He smiled inwardly at the tiny sigh she couldn't suppress.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" Garak asked from the doorway.

Damar didn't know whether he'd seen the gesture or was referring to their close proximity, but he wanted to throttle his fellow Cardassian for his abysmal timing.


	15. The Truth of Dreams

Garak had cut his afternoon walk short when curiosity had got the better of him. Once a spy... he thought wryly, then peered into the bedroom through the half-closed curtains. He didn't hear the conversation, but he didn't need to. Damar and Kira both could speak volumes with their eyes alone. A sense of loneliness swept through Garak, and he fought it down stubbornly with the help of his sense of humour, which told him that if he did not interrupt the scene inside right away, he might find himself locked out for hours to come, and the approaching night was beginning to chill the air already.

Damar's tender gesture he'd observed from the doorway had made him smile, both with the satisfaction that he'd been right about him, as with sheer delight that Damar had succeeded where Dukat had failed.

And Kira... well, he wouldn't tell her so to her face, but she looked as though someone had taken years of baggage off her shoulders and then lit a nice, cosy fire inside her, which, he suspected, was exactly what had happened. It suited her extraordinarily well.

Garak refused to succumb to self-pity or jealousy. How could he begrudge any sliver of happiness that was to be found in these times to two so deserving of it?

* * *

For dinner, Kira left the bed against all protests. "I'm not an invalid!" she stated.

Garak smirked. "You just want to make dinner yourself. This is probably your subtle way of telling me that I'm a terrible cook."

Laughing softly, Kira raised her hands placatingly. "Actually, I'm the terrible cook, Garak, so you're more than welcome to hold on to your apron."

At this, Damar chuckled, and handed him said apron.

Garak accepted his fate with a resigned sigh. "Mockery - this is what I get for being domestic." Nevertheless, he obligingly went about preparing another delicious meal, this time adding a pair of candles to the table setting. In light of the occasion. Damar's and Kira's suspicious looks were countered with a charming smile.

All three of them sat and talked amiably after dinner - Kira and Garak about life on the station, Damar about how much he loathed Weyoun and the Dominion, entertaining them with his wryly humorous and entertaining observations about snotty Vorta groveling before their so-called gods and snotty Jem'Hadar groveling in turn before the Vorta when feeding time came around, frequently joined by a Dukat, groveling for no good reason, of course. By the end of the evening, he had Kira and Garak in stitches, and it was only with great difficulty that they managed to finish their drinks without making a mess of themselves.

Eventually, Garak decided that between his own sleepiness and his present occupation as a third wheel, it would be a good idea to retire for the night. He reluctantly promised himself to stay behind his closed door - the door of the guest room, tonight. He didn't point this out, but had no doubt that Kira and Damar would notice his absence from what had become a kind of communal bed to them soon enough. It was only an assumption, of course, since they both seemed to notice little else besides each other.

"Good night, then," Garak declared cheerfully, and stretched and yawned theatrically.

"Night," Kira murmured, smiling.

"We won't be up much longer," Damar said distractedly, his eyes fixed on Kira's smiling lips.

"No, I'm sure." Garak chuckled softly as he made his way down the hallway.

Kira and Damar sat in silence for a few moments, looking at each other, yet at something of a loss as to what to do. Their connection still seemed too new and fragile, barely able yet to sustain touch.

"I think I'll get a little air on the veranda," Kira invited, picking up the rug from the sofa.

"I'll come with you," Damar accepted.

The night - moonlit and silent except for a gentle breeze - was relatively cool for Cardassia, and Damar shivered the moment they stepped outside.

Kira was right behind him. "Too cold?"

He turned to face the warmest smile he had ever seen on her face. "Not anymore," he said softly.

Kira's eyes held his while she lifted the throw rug to show him. "But just in case." And she awkwardly reached to hang the rug around Damar's broad shoulders. When she was done, her hands were captured in his and, with a smile, he turned her to face away from him, then pulled her close to wrap the rug around them both as they stood safely ensconced against the night air.

Neither of them felt any need to talk. In fact, it was as if that afternoon, they had talked themselves into exhaustion, and there was little else left to be said which could not be read in their every gesture. So in silence, they simply looked up at the night sky, Damar's chin resting against Kira's temple, and his arms beneath the rug crossed over her middle.

The Cardassian night sky was beautiful, Kira had to admit. There were more stars than anyone could ever count, and most of them were very distant, but among them, a handful twinkled brighter than all the rest.

With a contented sigh, Kira leaned back against Damar's reassuringly sturdy form with her head titled slightly to rest against his shoulder. The warmth of his breath swept gently over the side of her neck. She shivered pleasantly, pressing closer, and the change in position caused Damar's lips to rest softly against her hair. She felt him inhale, and then he sighed. The situation felt so warm and familiar, she spared barely more than a second for the thought that she never would have allowed such a caress only a matter of days ago. Or would she?

"Nerys," Damar whispered, and the sound sent shivers up and down Kira's spine.

"Yes?"

He turned her face to look at her, and she tilted up her chin so their eyes met - the expression in Damar's left her breathless. "May I kiss you?" His voice trembled as if he expected rejection.

In response, Kira tilted her head, closed her eyes, and parted her lips in invitation.

Damar's kiss was feather light, so tender and careful that it was hardly there at all. But even so, it made Kira's heart race wildly within mere seconds, and when she grew impatient and pressed closer, reaching for his tongue with her own, he groaned softly and let it follow Kira's into the sweet warmth of her mouth.

She twisted in his arms until she could press against him fully, one hand reaching up to tangle in his hair, the other coming to rest in the small of his back. His entire body was trembling in her arms, and it only made her want him all the more. She rubbed herself against him in such a way that he could not help but deepen the kiss and tighten his arms around her.

Damar felt drugged. The way Nerys whimpered into his mouth with every tightening of his hands on her, the way she gasped, open-mouthed, when his tongue met a new, yet unexplored part of her mouth, had his senses reeling, and he felt as though he was the one recovering from an exhausting fever. The thought gave him pause, and he loosened his hold reluctantly and let his lips part from Nerys' with a soft sound. He still held her close, with her face buried in his neck.

"What's wrong, Andiro?" she asked, and he knew he was not merely imagining that she sounded disappointed.

"I forgot for a moment," he explained shakily. "That you're not well yet. I shouldn't--"

"Hush." She was looking up at him now, one small finger resting on the groove in the centre of his lips, and the look in her eyes made him melt. "I'm fine. I..."

He was surprised to hear her hesitate, trying to remember whether he'd ever heard her grasping for words before. "Nerys?" he coaxed softly.

She swallowed, and her huge eyes softened. "I want you to make love to me."

He held his breath, wondering whether he was perhaps dreaming after all. In all his feverish dreams, even those which had tantalised him with unlikely scenarios of the two of them taking hurried and uncomfortable pleasure from each other on the eve of a battle, had he imagined her saying anything like this. "You want me to..." He gasped, "To make love to you?" He needed to be completely sure he had not heard wrong.

Nerys nodded, a slight smile tugging at her kiss-softened lips. "Yes, Andiro. Love."

He swallowed thickly and, with his eyes fixed on hers to be sure to catch even the slightest sign of hesitation on her behalf, he released her to wrap the rug around her shoulders, before surprising her by leaning down and lifting her into his arms. Her small squeak of surprise made him smile against her temple as he carried her to the front door, which he pushed open with her feet before carrying her to the sofa. He set her down gently, her legs resting on the sofa. Returning her smile, he tugged the rug off her shoulders and simply looked at her as if unable to believe she was real.

"Come here," she coaxed softly, reaching up to hook a finger behind the neck of his tunic.

He followed her down, one knee between her legs, one foot on the floor, and lowered himself, gently, to lie over her.

"I won't break, Andiro," she joked, touched by his care. Taking the initiative, she wrapped her arms tightly around him and pulled him into a searing kiss.

Damar was lost. He was more than willing to allow Nerys to take over and set her own pace, limiting himself to holding her close and running his fingers through the fiery strands of her hair, while she kissed him. He parted his lips, and her tongue instantly moved against his, her sweet mouth soft and moist, and he knew he would never tire of kissing her.

"Touch me," she whispered hotly between kisses, and her small hands slipped underneath his loose black tunic to rest against his cool skin like brands of fire.

"Nerys," he whispered, bucking against her. His kisses fell on her cheek and jaw, and when he kissed and licked the side of her slender neck, she moaned low in her throat, her hands tightening at his sides while her whole body shuddered against him.

Before she had a chance to relax again, Damar lifted up slightly to shift her tunic up, baring the soft flesh of her belly, before resting his own, cool body against her bare skin once more.

Nerys stilled, panting hard, and Damar almost began to worry when she gasped out, "That feels... wonderful."

He let out the breath he'd been holding, and she felt his momentary tension drain from him. Lifting his head from her shoulder, she looked at him intensely. "I need you, Andiro. There's nothing between us anymore, and I want to be part of you."

He blinked, still amazed at the absolute tenderness in her voice; he had never heard her sound like that. "Then you will be the best part of me," he whispered, and kissed her long and deep, until they were both out of breath.

They shifted against each other, delighting in the contrasts of the tiny area of bare skin where they touched, until Damar's hand insinuated itself between them to push the soft fabric of Nerys' tunic up to her chest.

She moaned a protest when he shifted lower, but sighed with contentment when his lips touched the plane of her stomach. His hands curled gently around her waist, and she reached for one of them and lifted it to her lips while he licked and kissed his way over every inch of her exposed skin. Shivering, she bucked up against him, and her leg slid along his groin and made him gasp out her name.

Suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to feel him moving inside her, his coolness mingling with her heat, and the past evaporating between them as though it had never happened. Mumbling incoherently, holding his hand against her cheek, she used her free hand to push the loose pants down over her hips as far as she could, nearly melting at the adoration in his gentle eyes.

As though examining a treasure, Damar trailed the juncture of her hips and thighs, then traced small circles over the soft flesh of her inner thighs until she was whimpering in desperation. Only then did he sigh softly and, parting her legs a little wider, let a single finger trail up over her wet, warm centre before dipping in, deeply, when he reached her clitoris.

Kira whimpered and jolted against him, shifting his finger inside herself and prompting him to move it faster, until he was tracing her soft wetness both inside and out, while she thrashed under him. "Please," she begged. "Please."

"Shh," he soothed, holding her still with his legs, while he thrust his fingers inside her - sometimes just one, sometimes two or three, and when he felt she would not last much longer, he parted her wider and shifted down to slip his tongue inside her wetness. Mere moments later, Kira came with a sob, and he continued licking and suckling until she nearly passed out from the pleasure, her entire body shuddering and twitching. He calmed her by lapping up the sweet moisture from the soft skin of her inner thighs.

They lay still, wrapped tightly in each other's arms, until Kira was once more completely relaxed, shifting under Damar with a sound much like purring.

He smiled at her, and she smiled back, carding a hand through his hair and tucking it behind his ear before, almost absently, tracing her fingers down his neck ridge. Damar's eyes squeezed shut, and he shivered under the touch.

"Take me, Andiro," Kira whispered.

His eyes flew open, and he nodded, his eyes never leaving hers while he struggled to remove his loose pants.

She continued to stroke his sensitive neck ridge until his eyes were nearly black with wanting and his breaths harsh and irregular. She was still wet and ready, aching to join with him.

When he hooked her leg over his hip and slowly pushed inside her, she gasped, moving her hand from his neck in time to avoid sinking her nails into the oversensitive ridge. She clutched onto his shoulders with both hands, forcing herself to relax and widen further to take his considerable girth. He was gentle and tender, shaking with the effort to hold back, and his care reassured her enough to melt under him until she felt the entire length of the ridged organ against her inner walls.

Damar held himself still, his lips alternating between Kira's trembling mouth and the softness of her cheek. He knew he would hurt her if he let himself go and was willing to take her as slowly as necessary. When he was all the way inside her, and her only sounds were a soft breath and a moan, he finally knew it was all right.

"More," she whispered, wrapping her slender legs around his hips and holding onto him, pleading in her eyes.

"Yes," he gasped, pulling back, then thrusting in again, slowly.

"Please, more!" Kira whimpered, shivering at the feel of his ridges sliding inside her softness.

Damar began to move faster, for there was no mistaking Kira's gasps for anything but pleasure, and he abandoned himself to thrusting inside her, shifting his angle continuously until she seemed to be going mad with need. That was when he turned them both suddenly until he lay under her, smiling up at her surprised and moist eyes.

Kira looked at him for a moment, her breath stuck in her throat at the feel of his full length throbbing inside her. Then she began to move tentatively, faster, faster, until she was undulating above him like a serpent and, no matter which way she moved, his ridges were perfect inside her - hard where she was soft, cool where she was hot, and both of them wet and desperate for release. The last thing Kira could do before tumbling over the edge was to squeeze hard, forcing Damar's release from him and drawing it into herself. The groan of absolute ecstasy spilling from his lips kept her coming for a long time, until she collapsed, exhausted, onto him.

Some time during the night, Damar woke to the unaccustomed, perfect feeling of Nerys in his arms. They were sticky and disheveled, but no force in the universe could have made him move. He reached for the discarded throw rug dangling from the back of the sofa and drew it over them, and then lay awake for a long time, content to simply listen to her breathing and feel her heart beating, steadily, next to his own. If he died right now, it would be in perfect happiness.


	16. Hope Paints All Things Beautiful

Garak wisely stayed out of the way the next morning until he was sure both Damar and Kira were decent again. He had certainly tried not to listen to them during the night, but apparently, they had forgotten he was in the next room. They had also forgotten, he thought with great amusement as he stood at the kitchen stove, that there was a perfectly good bed available to them while Garak had hidden out in the spare room. Clearly, time had been at a premium.

"Congratulations are in order, I believe," he chirpily greeted Damar when he entered the kitchen for a glass of water. Damar tried to frown at him but was altogether too happy to manage such an expression. Garak noted his difficulty and chuckled. "She's good for you."

"Yes," Damar simply agreed softly.

Kira came shuffling sleepily into the kitchen, and Damar's eyes brightened visibly, to Garak delight. "Morning," she greeted.

"And a wonderful morning it is, isn't it, Kira?" Garak flipped a pancake. From the corner of his eyes he saw the sleepy smile Kira gave Damar, who he was willing to bet was blushing furiously. He spent a moment sprinkling herbs into the pan, and when he turned around, he was greeted by the sight of Kira standing on her toes to kiss Damar.

Damar drew her into his arms and, in an instant, a simple 'good morning' kiss turned into the kind of clinch best engaged in behind closed doors.

Garak cleared his throat. "Well," he said huskily. "As Terrans like to say, if it's too hot in the kitchen, stay out of it. Or something to that effect." With that nugget of wisdom, he hastily snatched up the tea pot and made his way into the dining room.

Kira and Damar stayed behind, red-faced and embarrassed, but ridiculously happy nonetheless.

* * *

Breakfast was quite pleasant and might have been like any of their other meals they had shared, if not for the fact that Damar and Kira seemed unable to take their eyes off each other. And Garak didn't even want to imagine what might be going on under that table. Well, perhaps he did, but not just then.

The unanimous decision was made that, after breakfast, they should pack up and start heading back to the capital. There were only two days left now until their strike against the Dominion, and every minute they had to make plans with their co-conspirators was of the utmost importance.

After breakfast, Damar offered to help Garak in the kitchen, and Kira went to start packing.

"Garak," Damar said solemnly as soon as they were alone.

"Yes?" Garak filled a bowl up with dishwater. When Damar didn't immediately answer, he turned to see his friend looking at him curiously. "What's wrong, Damar?"

"Andiro," Damar said.

Garak smiled at him. "Elim."

Damar returned the smile. "May I ask a favour of you, Elim?"

"Naturally." Garak faced him fully. Damar was looking very serious indeed.

"If I don't make it, will you be there for Nerys?" Garak raised his brows. "I know she doesn't need looking after." Damar chuckled. "And don't you dare tell her I asked you to, but... keep her safe."

"I understand." Garak reached out and, for a moment, drew Damar into an embrace. When he released him again, he looked into his eyes. "I swear I will, Andiro. Not that it will come to that."

"No, of course not," Damar agreed.

"Good. Then go help her pack, and let me get on with my chores."

Damar laughed. "Thank you, my friend."

Garak smiled and watched Damar leave.

* * *

Kira found herself oddly reluctant to leave Damar's 'hideaway'. He assured her between hurried kisses while packing their meagre belongings that he'd bring her back there just as soon as possible. He left 'if we both survive' unsaid, but they were seasoned fighters, and some things didn't need saying out loud.

Once their bags were packed, Kira located Garak and found him checking on their shuttle. She sneaked quietly back inside and, with Damar still in the bedroom, closed the door behind her.

He smiled at her, and she moved into his arms. "There's something I want to tell you before we leave," she whispered.

Damar's heart sank. "I understand," he murmured.

"I haven't said anything yet." Kira laughed but, feeling the rigidity of his body against her, she drew back and looked into his suddenly haunted eyes. "What's wrong, Andiro?"

He brushed a lock of hair from her eyes. "I understand that you want to keep our relationship professional once we return to the capital. I do, Nerys, really. I don't blame you, considering... I'll be happy to wait for us to return here before I can hold you again, and--"

Kira's mouth was on his with such ferocity that it nearly knocked him down. Only his substantially greater bulk kept him on his feet, though the searing heat of her onslaught threatened to do away with his balance soon enough.

Finally, gasping, Kira drew back. "Well, I'm not, you idiot."

"Not what?" Damar panted, dazed.

"Willing to wait," Kira stated with her brows knitted. The expression might have been one of annoyance, but Kira could no longer keep a certain tenderness from her face when looking at Damar.

"No?" he asked softly, cupping her cheek. Hope rose in his chest again, and he wondered when this tiny fighter before him had begun to wreak such easy havoc with his moods and emotions.

"No, and just so we understand each other..." She smiled. "If I should feel like kissing you - and I expect I will - I will do so, and I don't care if all of Cardassia Prime, Gul Dukat, and the entire Dominion, stand there watching." Damar could only gasp. "That wasn't what I meant to tell you, you know." She looked suddenly embarrassed.

"There's more?" Damar asked, awed and wondering whether he had any right to be this happy.

"The reason why I don't care about any of that, or any of them, is because I..." Kira bit her lip. "I think I... no, I know." She closed her eyes, but opened them again immediately and looked him straight in the eyes, when she heard him speak first.

"I love you, Nerys." The words fell from Damar's lips before he could stop them, but when Kira's face lit up, he wanted nothing more than to say them again. "I love you."

"Oh, I love you too, Andiro. I do." Kira flung herself at him, and he held her close, smiling lips nuzzling her cheek, until Garak's hesitant knock at the door told them it was time to leave.

 

THE END


End file.
